


The Xenon-Academy

by Avrina



Series: Space Pirates [1]
Category: Original Work, StarCraft (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Military Academy, Romance, Secret Relationship, Suicide, Violence, Women in the Military
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2019-12-30 10:17:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 55,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18313565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avrina/pseuds/Avrina
Summary: This story is inspired by the background of Matt Horner and too much of AU to be completely a fandom, it's more my very own story but with a lot of hints and implied stuff. For example I changed some names ;)It's the story about Matt becoming a pilot before joining the Sons of Korhal- his years at this elite academy and his friendship to Alex/Valerian and the girl Alanis.





	1. Not a Tulip

The Blue Tulip was a big blue building, with an interior referring to the name. And it was the second-best establishment in town; the best if you just looked at the visitor numbers and sales. It was expansive enough to allure the rich, but cheap enough to not alienate the normal ones. They offered good food, brilliant drinks, exciting dance shows and excellent girls. Indeed the young woman, which slipped through the backdoor into the kitchen, wasn’t buyable.   
“Hey Alanis.”, she got greeted by Jackjack, the main chef.   
“Heyho! Please tell me you’ve got something to eat for me! I’m starving!”   
“I would like to, but Marge wants to see you.”, Jackjack replied and shrugged apologetic. Alanis pouted.   
“Well, then let’s not make her wait…”   
“Better not.” She sighed, adjusted the messenger bag on her back and left the kitchen through the main exit.

After walking a short corridor she climbed up the stairs to the first floor. There she knocked on a dark blue door in the shape of a tulip blossom.   
“Come in!”, it came severe from the inside. Alanis entered the office and closed the door behind her. As soon as she saw the face of Margaret “Marge” Hamilton she knew, that there was something in disorder.   
“Did I got into mischief?”, she wanted to know carefully and took a seat on the visitor chair.   
“My dear Alanis, could you explain this to me?”, Marge asked with cold eyes, which told that the sweetness in her voice was a lie, and upheld a datapad where a letter was opened. Alanis recognized the emblem of the Xenon Flight Academy instantly and her gaze twitched back to Marge.

“How is it possible that you got a merit scholarship at the most renowned flight academy of the whole space sector?”   
A happy-crazy grin spread across Alanis’ face. “I sent an application.”, she said simply. With a annoyed- resigned sigh Marge put down the datapad on the desk right in front of her and seemed to think carefully about what so say next. Slowly she put her fingertips together and touched her nose, before she said:   
“Do you even know, what you want to get involved with? The Xenon Academy is the elite academy for the elite since more than 300 years. And just because they are forced to train even women now it’s not said, that the recruits changed. For most of them women have no business in military- they belong into the kitchen or the bed.”   
“But you are aware of where you raised me, yes?”, Alanis asked back with an aggressive undertone. Marge was her aunt and owned the Blue Tulip, where Alanis wasn’t just begotten but even grew up. Behind Marge a dark blue curtain covered a mirror window, which allowed an imposing view over the big showroom, where already for three hours the entertaining program was running.

Marge lowered her fingertips to the datapad. “You can accept the scholarship if you want. I even pay for your travel to Xenon. But you will dance. Every evening till you depart and every evening you're home during holidays.” Alanis gulped. Marge had her trained like all the other girls, but she hated to dance. After all, she hated everything around her, but if that was the price for her dream, she would pay it. "Alright.", she said weakly and Marge nodded curtly.

When Alanis had just gotten up and wanted to leave, Marge said thoughtfully:   
"The military, yes?" Alanis looked questioningly at her aunt. "Maybe you have more of your father than you know."   
"You never told me who he was", Alanis said dismissively.   
"Because not even your mother was sure who it was. One of the many soldiers who were here at the time, looking for the leaders of the revolution.”, Marge said in a nearly gentle voice.   
"It helps me as much as a handful of filth.", Alanis mumbled and walked to the door. Marge sighed.   
"You will train tomorrow with the other girls. If Janice says you're fit, you'll dance.”   
“Alright...”, Alanis nodded curtly and left the office. In the corridor she slumped against a wall and grinned stupidly. A merit scholarship at the Xenon! All the trouble she'd gotten herself into if she slipped away again to go to Old Hobbs, who had a discarded flight simulator, was well worth it. Well, her high school credentials were no more real than some of her other documents, but what it took was Alanis' years of work. She could hardly believe it. After years of discussion, the Xenon academy had to open its doors to women and she was one of the first to enter these sacred halls.

\---

The disillusionment came already the next morning.   
"You're too late.", Janice said accusingly as Alanis joined the other girls in the private dining room. Alanis glanced at the clock. It was nine thirty-three and the three minutes that Janice denounced were really not the world. But she knew Janice well enough to look down.   
"I'm sorry."   
"It will not happen again. Eat now!" The dance trainer put a tiny bowl of yogurt and fresh fruit in front of her, accompanied by a large glass of pop-green juice. Little eager breakfasted Alanis and still hungry, she followed a little later the other to the rear building, where the practice room was.   
"Warm up!", Janice shouted and clapped her hands. The girls began to run laps and jump, Alanis in the middle of it. After a few minutes, Janice put on music and everyone but Alanis began to dance short choreography excerpts, just as they wanted.   
"So, Alanis, do you know the choreographies?" Janice asked in a tone that implied that this was not the case.   
"Of the three current only the _pink candy_. I haven't seen _Moonlight_ yet."   
Janice sighed exaggeratedly. "What did Marge think?"   
Alanis bit back every reaction.

  
At the end of the day there was no part of her body not hurting, but in her head instructions, dance steps and the other dancers turned wildly in a circle. She buried her face in her hands and groaned softly. Around them, the others got ready for the evening's first dance show.   
"Don’t worry, Alanis," Pippa said softly, patting her arm. "Janice is a bitch, but she's doing well."   
"I know," mumbled Alanis dully. "But that doesn’t make it any better. I hate dancing."   
"But why are you here then?", Pippa asked, astonished. Alanis looked up, confused; behind Pippa, Clary shook her head in amusement.   
"That's a little complicated...", Alanis started, but at that moment Janice called Pippa and she hurried away.   
"Pippa is not the brightest light in the candlestick.", Clary said softly, looking after Pippa.   
"Probably not, no." Alanis agreed.   
"How long are you going to stay?"   
"Three weeks, maybe four."   
"And then you're free." Clary grinned, Alanis shook her head.   
"I have to do the summer vacation twice here. And if I cannot keep my scholarship, Marge's got me on the roof."   
"In moments like these, my envy is somewhat limited." Clary patted Alanis on the shoulder. "But you can do it. Anyone who can grow up spiritually healthy in a brothel, gets a military academy done with the left hand." With these words, Clary joined the other girls who put on their glittering costumes.

Alanis sighed deeply and inwardly was already bracing herself as Janice approached her, but her scowl smoothed surprisingly.   
"Go and watch the show as a recording. You look like your head is bursting."   
Alanis nodded slightly speechless. "Okay...", she finally brought out. So much friendliness she hadn’t expected. But she obediently left the door and went to the rear building, where her own little empire was found under the roof. Wood-clad walls and sloping ceilings, bright furniture and tidied up. The last time Marge set foot in here had been a while, but Alanis didn’t risk anything. Her aunt had a very unique idea of order and cleanliness. Alanis turned on her computer and looked down at the pile of notes she'd accumulated while she'd finished the Xenon Academy's aptitude test a few weeks ago.

The second disillusionment came when she followed the flashing message icon and found a mail from the Xenon telling her how to get there. In addition, the house rules, rules, prohibitions and completely general behavior guidelines and hints, all with the decent remark provided that the disregard of the above-mentioned things punishments up to the removal from the registered students would entail. "Phew..." Slightly impressed, Alanis leaned back and reread the information for the journey before handing it over to Marge. She would probably need a new travel bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aunt Marge makes an interesting Mira Han. Or maybe Marge and Alanis together make a good Mira? Not sure ;)


	2. Welcome at Xenon- Academy

The shaking and rocking caused by the atmosphere entering had eventually turned into a gentle swaying that made Matt doze away. When the troop transporter then landed extremely rudely in the spaceport, he was suddenly wide awake again.  
"Well, have had a long journey?", asked his seat neighbor compassionate.  
"Nearly three days." Matt mumbled in a yawn.  
"You did it soon. We're on the right planet, after all." The recruit smiled in amusement. "We're going to get on the buses now, and then it's an hour and half." Matt just nodded.

The pilot gave permission to get up and three hundred recruits and soldiers hurried to pull their bags out of the luggage nets and leave the transporter. The chaos in the spaceport overwhelmed Matt and for a moment he was lost among the crowd until someone grabbed his arm and pulled him away.  
"Come on, we have to go there." A freshman like Matt himself had taken care of him and did not release him until Matt adjusted his speed. "Alex.", the rookie said after a sidelong glance.  
"Matt.", answered the same, after he had swallowed a "I know". There was probably nobody here who didn’t know Alexander Grayson, son of President Grayson.  
"Nice to meet you." Alex said with a sincere smile.  
"Freshmen to me!" Matt barely heard the shouting over the general noise, but the crowd seemed to be pouring in different directions, and shortly afterwards they were standing in front of two buses painted with the emblem of the academy. In front of each stood a grim-faced soldier with a datapad and the one on the first bus waved to them.  
"You two more, then this one is full. Name?"  
"Alexander Grayson.", Alex said calmly.  
"Get in. Name?"  
"Matthew Horner."  
"Get in." Matt entered the bus.

As he searched for a vacant space, the door hissed shut behind him and the driver started the engine. In the three rows behind the driver sat the five young women who had been granted access to the Academy, and of course the last free seat was next to the fifth of them. Matt had no choice but to bite into the sour apple, so he stuffed his bag into the baggage compartment and slid into his seat next to the girl.  
"Buckle up and hold on. You don’t want to fall out of your seats snoring on the final meters. Estimated driving time: one hour forty.", The driver announced cheerfully and started the bus with a jerk. The click of the safety belts sounded around Matt and he hurried to put on his own. The girl's hand grazed his, his eyes jerking up and hitting hers. Cold steel-gray eyes looked at him, then she turned away and looked out of the window as she fumbled a small music player out of her pocket and then plugged tiny headphones into her ears. The light blond hair was stuck to a strict bun and her white blouse was surprisingly wrinkle-free. Matt pulled his own phone out of his jacket pocket and unwrapped the headphones. He blended out the quiet conversation around him with the music and not two minutes later he was dozing again.

\---

"In front of you, you see the Xenon academy, your new home." The bus turned a corner and Matt sighed inwardly relieved. The main building itself was a huge, ugly brick box with two large side wings, but the boarding schools where he had lived so far had not been beauties either. Parts of the site were limited by a high wall, others with steel fences. In the background he saw the airfield and on one side stood a few large greenhouses, behind which stretched long rows of trees to a small lake. In the row of seats in front of Matt, the two girls whispered to each other, but fell silent as the bus passed the big gate in the wall and drove up an avenue until it reached the large square in front of the main entrance. At the edge of the square a small stage was set up, in front of it were a lot of rows of chairs up to the meadow. The bus driver had already turned and as the doors hissed open, he said:  
"So, gentlemen. Grab your things, make sure you don’t forget anything, and then see you next summer."

Matt undid his seat belt and slid off his seat to get his bag out of the luggage compartment. The first he got was bright blue.  
"Thanks.", said the girl he had been sitting next to simply, and quickly he put the bag on his seat. Then he caught his own and he hurried to get out of the bus and into the fresh air.  
"Freshmen here!", It sounded immediately from one side. "Freshmen!" Together with the others, he gathered behind the stage, where a few of the instructors stood.  
"Collect your bags over there, yes, right there. The first two rows of seats are reserved for you. Sit down and- a little faster, back there, please! - Sit down and wait until you're called."  
"Move!"  
"Yes, sir!" Some of the new recruits answered and they all started to move.

As they sat, Matt turned around to watch the happenings around. Even the older recruits simply gathered their bags on chaotic heaps and then sat down. One of the instructors held a datapad in his hand and watched the happenings while five of the other instructors fetched some small flat boxes from somewhere and positioned themselves next to the stage. After about twenty minutes, the man climbed onto the stage with the datapad and walked to a narrow lectern, which stood at the side edge.  
"Welcome. And welcome back.", He greeted the recruits in a surprisingly warm tone. "I make it short as always: this year brings an innovation that has been discussed for a long time. For the first time since its founding three hundred and forty-four years ago, the Xenon Flight Academy also welcomes female recruits, and accordingly, our medical staff was extended by Sister Marjolaine. Everything else is the same." Matt guessed that it was Director Vance, who was holding the welcome ceremony. The pause in art took a moment too long before the director continued.  
"Well, let's welcome our new recruits." He cleared his throat.

"In Class 1e, under Tutor Fraser, we welcome Ronald Adams ..." A few yards away from Matt, a freshman stood and visibly stumbled to the steps of the stage.  
"... Christian Baker ..." The eighteenth recruit was finally called "Veronica O'Malley" and a low murmur rose. The girl had a long ponytail in coppery red and was staring straight ahead as she stood next to Niclas Nurcia and, like everyone else, clasped her hands behind her back. Most of the newcomers wore nice-looking casual clothes, but she was pretty catchy with her bright pink sweater over white jeans. Eventually, the twenty Class 1e recruits all stood on stage and Tutor Fraser stepped forward. From behind, a recruit scurried up and took the flat box from him.  
"Ronald Adams, are you ready to begin your education as a pilot for the United Planet Council of Sector Gamma-Phi at the Xenon Flight Academy?"  
"I'm ready, sir," Adams said, his voice dropping little. Fraser took from the box that the other recruit held out to him, a necklace of military badge, which he hung around Adams's neck.  
"Welcome."  
"Thank you, sir." Adams said so softly that Matt barely heard it. Veronica O'Malley seamlessly joined in the series and after class 1e was complete, another man stepped forward. Matt had to look twice to see that what he was holding in his hand was an electric razor.

Five recruits had to give their hair and Matt was glad that he would be spared this slightly embarrassing performance; his grandfather had dragged him to a real barber shop just before leaving. Finally, Fraser stepped forward.  
"Move out!" He stalked in front of Adams from the stage and out of sight, then the same game for class 1d started over. This time, the penultimate recruit was the girl. Lisa Smith was short, wiry, and her hair was brightly colored, and that too would have to be cut, and Matt almost felt a bit of sympathy. But she took it stoically and defiantly craned her chin as she marched off the stage with a bald head. In Class 1c, Scarlett Grant was called, a tall, slender, dark-skinned beauty whose wild curls seemed barely restrained, and which in Matt's eyes belonged more to a model jog, than to a military academy. She called out a lot of mumbling and Matt heard more than once that she was under warranty related to Governor Grant. When only one girl was called for class 1b, Matt realized that they were deliberately dividing them. Stephanie Diering was a petite blonde and looked very unhappy as she stood between the other recruits, but she did not back down and squared her shoulders after Tutor Benedict hung the military badge around her neck.

That left only the recruits for the a-class, the performance class, as rumored outside the Xenon. Besides Matt, his neighbor of the bus had to be a member as well.  
"Chris Arlington ... Zachary Evans ... Dylan Foster ... Alexander Grayson ..."  
A little murmur rose again.  
"Alanis Hamilton ... Matthew Horner ..." Matt got up and walked through the empty row of chairs to the stage where he took his place next to the girl again. When all twenty recruits were on stage, Tutor Waldo stepped forward and asked the question that had been heard so many times, before he almost reached Matt.  
"Alanis Hamilton, are you ready to begin your education as a pilot for the United Planet Council of Sector Gamma-Phi at the Xenon Flight Academy?"  
"I'm ready, sir.", she replied calmly.  
"Welcome."  
"Thank you, sir."  
"Matthew Horner, are you ready to begin your education as a pilot for the United Planet Council of Sector Gamma-Phi at the Xenon Flight Academy?"  
"I'm ready, sir. ", Matt answered far more calmly as he felt.  
"Welcome."  
"Thank you, sir." The cool metal of the chain tingled for a moment in Matt's neck and he felt a little relief. All his life he had dreamed of attending the Xenon Academy, just as his father had. And now he was here.

Waldo's voice tore him out of his thoughts a bit, but he followed the others off the stage and onto the other side of the academy forecourt, where the other classes were already attending. When they joined in, Waldo gave them a quick glance.  
"My name is Marcus Waldo. I'm an engineer and one of your technical instructors for the next three years and your tutor on top of that, so I'm your point of communication for most things. Of course, if you have personal problems, you can go to anyone you trust, that's out of discussion..." Waldo cleared his throat and studied his new class again. Matt felt as if he was waiting for something. In fact, Waldo half-turned and then waved to an older recruit who hurriedly brought out a cardboard box.  
"So..." Waldo took a note from the box and called five names followed by a number. Finally, he arrived at Matt.  
"Horner, Grayson, Foster, Evans, Arlington ... Three hundred and ten. Hamilton, the female recruits have the room three hundred and forty. The sleeping quarters are in the west wing, on the second or third floor. Please note that the south washroom on the third floor is reserved for the women. Your keycards give you access to all the necessary rooms in the academy and have a personal ID, so don’t lose them!" Waldo looked around again.  
"At five-thirty we meet in classroom **Rome**. Until then you have enough time to take a shower and get acquainted with your new roommates. Or with the house rules, if you haven’t read them yet. Incidentally, I warmly recommend that to you. This is a military academy and as always, discipline is important. Some of the punishments may seem draconian, but the reality out there is not a kid's birthday party either. Even with the worst possible degree of the Xenon, you're the elite on which certain expectations are raised and, moreover, you're all grown people."  
Matt stifled the urge to nod in agreement.  
"I'll give you your key cards now, and then we'll see each other in the classroom." Matt relaxed a little, and as he picked up his key, the knot of tension in his stomach began to break loose.

He followed his new comrades to the heap of bags, fished out his own, and let himself go with the tide of people heading to the bedrooms. Chris was already standing in front of room three hundred and ten and drew his card through the scanner again and again without results.  
"It won’t work for you until everyone is here." One of the older recruits called to him, just as Matt joined him, followed by Dylan.  
"And where are the two of them?" Chris grumbled a little sullenly.  
"They'll show up.", Dylan said cheerfully, and as Matt looked over his shoulder, he spotted Alex. With him Zachary also found them and when they had all scanned their key, the door clicked and opened. Immediately, Chris pushed it completely open and entered.  
"Mine!" He announced at the same moment. Matt, who entered the room after him, saw his bag fly to the single bed. He himself dropped to the lower of the second bunk bed.  
"Hey! That's unfair!" Dylan shouted as Alex occupied the first lower bed.  
"First come, first serve." Chris shrugged.  
"Yes, but I was in front of Alex!"  
"And unlike me, you're a flyweight." Alex looked critically at Dylan.

No one could contradict that point. Dylan was small and wiry, while Alex had a male dream figure with matching height and muscle mass. Grumbling, Dylan surrendered and threw his jacket up his new bed; Matt patterned his other roommates. Chris, stretched out on his new bed, had the stature of a bear, though in dark blond. And Zachary, who didn’t seem to participate in the discussion and calmly sorted his assigned wardrobe, was tall, thin, and slender.   
"Is someone here snoring?" He asked in the incoming silence.   
"Me," Chris said with a raised eyebrow. "Why?" In response, Zachary pulled earplugs out of his pocket.   
"Do you think you'll hear nocturnal muster calls?" Matt asked skeptically. While getting up he sighed inwardly; if he stayed longer seated, he would fall asleep, and that wouldn’t be helpful right now.   
"It depends on Chris' volume, I suppose." Alex grinned. Matt stifled a smile. The presidential son lolled on his bed, and his white-blond hair made the in a light beige painted wall look dirty; his skin was so pale that his eye-color was like storm clouds. Dylan seemed to have the same thought as Matt, because he asked:   
"Say, are you an albino?" His bad mood seemed to have vanished almost immediately.   
"Not in full detail.", Alex answered. He seemed to have said that quite often, but apparently that didn’t bother him.   
"Cool thing."   
"What's cool about that, please?" Zachary asked skeptically of Dylan's comment.   
"Don’t know. It's cool." Dylan shrugged.   
"No need to make a drama out of it," Alex interjected calmly. "I've got used to it in the last eighteen years."   
Chris laughed softly and Matt grabbed his bag to fill his wardrobe.

When he opened the door, his reflection faced him on the inside and he stifled a sigh. His grandpa always said that one of his ancestors had married an oriental princess and her pride and appearance got burned into the family. Matt's hair was black and his skin naturally browned and with an olive tone. However, he had the amber brown eyes from his father's side and they were what he liked most about himself. He refused to call himself burly and hoped for a late spurt of growth; to his great displeasure, he had noticed during the welcome ceremony that recruit Hamilton- heavy boots or not- was slightly taller than him. Dylan's laughter tore him out of his thoughts and he turned back his attention to the contents of the wardrobe, there was already everything he needed, apart socks and underpants. Only the top compartment let space for his civilian clothes and he did his best to keep everything as tidy as possible. He could relinquish senseless punishment for lack of order.

"I think I could do with a hot shower.", Alex announced with a sigh.   
"I'll take a nap," Chris yawned. Matt closed his wardrobe and glanced at Chris, who was already closing his eyes. He stuffed his travel bag under the bed and put his phone and purse in the small key compartment of the nightstand, then looked at the pillow a little unsteadily.   
"If you're sleeping now, you cannot sleep tonight." Zachary said quietly, headphones in hand. "And then you won’t get out of bed tomorrow."   
"On the other hand, I'm not in the mood to fall asleep in the classroom afterward," Matt replied hesitantly.   
"Then come with me.", Alex said to him. "A cold shower can work wonders."   
"Yeah, I guess ..." Matt grimaced, taking towels and fresh clothes.

While they left the room, Alex asked curiously: "Have you had a long trip?"   
"Almost three days."   
"Where are you from?"   
"Calphion."   
"Ah... but there are a lot of recruits coming from further away."   
"I know. And I really don’t want to switch places with them." Matt gave a small shrug as he smiled. Between the systems of Calphion and Xenon was the central system that housed the governmental planet Valenzar- Alex's journey had probably been convenient and short.   
"How long does it take from the edge systems to here?" Matt then considered.   
"Easily one and a half weeks.", Alex replied like a shot out of the gun. "At least, considering the normal travel options. A fleet would be here faster."   
Matt nodded for the sake of simplicity.

There were small units in the large shared bathroom that contained a large mirror, storage compartments, stools, and five almost fully open showers. The hot humid air made the mirror misty and while Matt undressed, Alex wiped the mirror with his shirt.   
"Do you mind when I say we look like day and night?"   
Matt looked up, confused. Over the mirror he saw at Alex's thoughtful expression. "No… but it sounds terribly corny. And by the way, I'm certainly not the darkest here."    
“Sure, but in comparison with me everything is dark."   
Matt shook his head with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Alex and Valerian are not really the same, but they are kind of counterparts =)


	3. First hard facts

Alanis rubbed her eyes. Stephanie had her face buried in the pillow, Lisa played with her phone, Scarlett meticulously filled her wardrobe and Veronica babbled. She couldn't believe what she had read in the pamphlet issued by the mysterious student council.

_Any contact with the female recruits is prohibited. The only exception is a forced cooperation due to the instructors like homework essays._

In summary, the long section was to read as “allowed is anything that causes the female recruits to leave the academy - voluntarily or not - as long as is doesn’t endanger yourself". It angered Alanis after she had overcome the first impression of disbelief, how shamelessness the Council was. Glancing at the clock, she slid out from under Scarlett's bed, stood in the middle of the room and clapped her hands twice. Irritated, Veronica paused in her babble and Stephanie raised her head.   
"So, ladies. We still have twenty minutes before we have to be at the classrooms. We should get ready. And then we show the guys out there that we can do more than look pretty."   
Lisa snorted, but Scarlett nodded grimly.   
"Let's go, then," Stephanie muttered without emotions. Alanis turned to her wardrobe and took off her civilian clothes. Beside her, Scarlett murmured softly:   
"A-class, huh? That alone should show that you have something in your pretty head."   
"We'll see..." Alanis shrugged and took a blouse off the hanger. Maybe there was more to the talk that the a-class was put together for performance. If so, she had probably overdone it a bit with her fake certificates. The thought made her stomach ache, but there was nothing left to change.

They dressed carefully, critically examining each other, and Alanis used more hairpins than usual when she tucked her long hair into a strict bun.   
"This aviator green is awful," Veronica murmured, tugging at her jacket sleeves.   
"Stop complaining. After all, you don’t look like you’re rotten." Scarlett remarked, eyeing herself critically.   
"You girls have some problems..." Lisa shook her shaven head. Alanis guessed she had it done on purpose.   
"Everyone's ready? Time’s getting short."   
"Yes, ma'am.", Veronica replied and put on a convulsively happy smile, which almost seemed a bit crazy.   
"Well then…"

The classroom Rome was located on the second floor of the main building and offered an interesting view over the wide academy grounds. Alanis sat down in the third row by the window, neither unobtrusively in the last corner, nor like a nerd in the front row offering herself as a target. The president's son sat behind her and Horner, the guy after her on the list, in the same row, but on the wall side. On the tables were placed robust shoulder bags, in which probably already the most necessary material was. Tutor Waldo stood at his desk and studied his class for a moment before he raised the word.   
"Once again: welcome to the Xenon. In front of you, you will find your bags, which already contain some necessary things, as well as a list of things that you can pick up tonight in the stationery corner next to the library. Better go twice, the amount of books on the second list comes out heavy."   
Someone chuckled.   
"Furthermore, I recommend at least personalizing your bag and writing stuff in an acceptable way."   
With three hundred recruits with the same bag, this was a practical tip. Waldo cleared his throat.   
"This is your classroom. If you don’t need special visual material, all theory classes take place here. From tomorrow on you will find on the door a weekly schedule for the room service. This includes tidying, sweeping, wiping and the like. All other plans, notices, announcements and so on can be found on the bulletin board next to the dining hall. As you will notice, there is also a scoreboard, which documents your overall performance sorted by year. Such tables also hang in the simulation rooms and flight preparation areas. However, these are limited to your flying achievements."  
Alanis hadn’t expected such open competition, but if she thought properly, the best of the best were trained on the Xenon. She listened attentively to Waldo's remarks. Somewhere a stomach began to growl.   
"I'll finish soon," Waldo smirked, and a few laughed softly. "I'm afraid you have to wait until dinner. Please take care of your comrades so that they don’t fall over with hunger when carrying books."   
Even Alanis could not help smiling. Waldo talked briefly about the weekend rules, then they were dismissed, but no one moved.   
"Come on, grab your bags and get your books, the faster you'll come to dinner."   
"Yes, sir!" Chairs scraped across the floor and low murmurs began.   
"Hey, did you see? We even have politics.", The recruit in front of Alanis shouted past her to address Grayson.   
"Yeah, I saw the list of books, thanks Dylan." Grayson replied with exaggerated politeness.   
"This will be your subject!"   
Grayson just sighed. Alanis took her bag and left the room with a brisk step. Although the recruits were instructed by the council to ignore their female comrades, Alanis caught some glances. Curious, malicious and in one way or another provocative. But Alanis could also _ignore_ and so she went with a long-trained self-evident in the east wing to get her books.

\---

Fed up, satisfied and dead tired, Matt leaned back in his chair. The babble of the other recruits became a lulling background.   
"Hey, don’t fall asleep, man!" He got a rib kick from Dylan.   
"Yeah..." he murmured, rubbing his eyes.   
"What do we do until the curfew?" Chris asked, playing with his fork.   
"Label our stuff and prepare for tomorrow." Matt earned three critical glances. Only Zachary nodded.   
"Good idea."   
"You're really boring," Dylan remarked, rolling his eyes.   
"What else do you want to do?" Zachary asked, cocking his head.   
"No idea. Any funny learn-about-each-other game?"   
"Not with me." Chris protested immediately. Matt had seen a tattoo of three cereal ears on Chris' arm when he changed - apparently he came from a farm planet and probably hadn’t expected to actually be accepted here.   
"Matt's suggestion makes a lot more sense." Zachary wrinkled his nose and Alex sighed.   
"And why don’t we just combine both?"   
"Oh yes!" Dylan was instantly on fire, but Matt shook his head.   
"Can we change that to a different date? At five-thirty the alarm clock rings and I-" A yawn interrupted him.   
"Maybe we should actually try sleeping." Chris nodded to Matt. Although he had taken a nap in the afternoon, he seemed quite exhausted.   
"You can sleep when you're dead," Dylan grumbled.   
"You can try to keep the two of them awake. But the consequences are yours alone." Alex shrugged. "If they don’t want to, they don’t."   
"Reasonable." Zachary agreed. Matt nodded slowly, then got up and reached for his food tray.   
"Small motivation boost: the classes tomorrow start with physics."   
Except for Zachary, the others made a face.

However, when Matt lay in bed, he couldn’t fall asleep. His boarding school had a very humiliating welcome ceremony among the students for thirteen-year-olds, and the older students made the younger ones pay for coaching and homework help in kind. He thought of Sean, his best friend, who, despite all help, had not graduated and preferred to commit suicide, rather than go through it again. Matt wavered between infinite gratitude for the bitter goblet passing him and the helplessness of not having helped Sean better. And at the same time, he hoped that the Xenon was not so barbaric.  
"Get up! Chop, chop!" Flashlight twitched across the room. Matt jumped up and saw three recruits standing in the room.   
"Come on!"   
He half fell out of bed and stood between Chris and Zachary in the place that was ordered to them. _Please don’t._   
"Strip!"   
His hesitation brought him a slap and hastily he pulled his shirt over his head. One of the older recruits had stopped next to the door, the other two were examining the naked freshmen from head to toe. _Please don’t._   
"You." A beam of light stayed on Alex's face. "Step forward and on your knees." Alex turned his head blinded, but didn’t hesitate long enough to get himself a slap. _Please don’t._   
"You. To the wall."   
Matt swallowed hard as Zachary trembled forward.   
"And you three... watch and learn."

\---

In the dining hall Alanis noticed almost immediately that the other newcomers looked anything but recovered. Some of the older ones were also tired, but overall, they were happy in a sly way.   
"What's up with them?" Veronica asked compassionately as they sat down at a small table.   
"Wellcome ritual, I guess." Scarlett began to eat disinterestedly.   
“Please, what?" Steph raised an eyebrow.   
"That may be eating or drinking some disgusting stuff -" Scarlett began,   
"- or go beyond humiliating games to rape." Lisa soberly finished the sentence.   
"What?" Veronica almost dropped her eyes out of her head.   
"Not so loud!" Hissed Alanis.   
"Oh honey, what are you naive..." Scarlett gave Veronica a friendly look, but her voice was condescending.   
"And the instructors just let that happen?" Steph asked unhappily. Alanis swallowed her cereal and shrugged.   
"First: who of them will complain about it? Second, two-thirds of the recruits here are already from military-grade schools that run the same way. Third, the instructors had to face for sure the same back in their time."   
"But ..." Veronica looked stunned. "Does that leave you completely cold?"   
"We don’t know what really happened. That's just a guess." Now it was up to Scarlett to shrug.   
"In the way they sit on their chairs, it’s a pretty likely one." Lisa mumbled into her breakfast.   
"That's disgusting!"   
"Shut up and eat!" Alanis looked at Veronica sharply. "The military is not the right place for pity and cuddle rounds. If you show weakness here, you're the next."   
Veronica went pale.   
"Alanis, don’t be so ..." Steph said uneasily.   
"How am I? That was a warning. They don’t want us here. And to be honest, I almost expected them to be in our room as well."   
After a moment's hesitation, Steph lowered her gaze. Veronica seemed downright disturbed while Lisa chuckled.   
"Darling, Alanis is right. Eat and then make a good face for the bad game. Hysteria will help no one- especially not you." Under Scarlet's stern gaze, Veronica nodded obediently; her hand trembled as she finally started to eat.


	4. Jump'n'Run

In Matt's eyes it wasn’t surprising how much the events of the first night were hushed up. Dylan's half-hearted attempt to talk about it Matt had diplomatically strangled- in thought of the others- and made him understand by the flower that he better forgot it. The girls had apparently been left alone, which relieved him, even though he thought they had no business here. Still, the first two days had been pretty quiet.

"A little more hurry, if you please!" The door to the lock-up flew open and coach Statson casted a disapproving glance.   
"Yes, sir!" Matt and the others hurried to get into their sports clothes. Next to him, Zachary closed his laces.   
"Come on!"   
Matt jogged through the short corridor into the sports hall and almost stopped dead in his tracks.   
"Oh, heaven...," he whispered softly. The entire huge hall was built on an obstacle course.   
"Turn laps, chop, chop!" Statson yelled, and Matt almost bounced off Willem as he started to move.

He hated sports. Although he was not looking like it, he was absolutely unathletic and this parkour would lead to a disgrace right in the first class. Actually, he should have used the time of warming up to preview the ordeal of the day, but Hamilton ran right in front of him, distracting him a bit. Willem next to him was also more concerned about admiring the backsides in the skin-tight pants than dealing with the parkour.   
When Statson whistled after a felt eternity to gather them at one end of the hall, Matt was already out of breath. Dylan and Alex looked like they didn’t even get really warm.   
"That'll be fun!", Dylan was happy and seemed to have to pull himself together so as not to bounce up and down.   
"I doubt that." Chris didn’t look much happier than Matt.

"The task is clear," Statson began straightaway. "You'll pass through this parkour as fast as you can." He held up a kind of bracelet, then pointed to the narrow black poles stuck in the ground. "This will accurately measure your time. And anyone who thinks he can take it easy has cut himself. I like pushups and tidying up." He grinned diabolically, Matt got a stomachache. Someone seemed to have raised a hand, because Statson said:   
"Still a problem?"   
"Is there a best time?" Hamilton wanted to know. Irritated, Statson looked at her and Matt turned to face her. "Well, a kind of minimum time, that-"   
"One twenty would be fine," Statson said harshly. Hamilton nodded curtly.   
"Does anyone want to start?"   
Daniel raised his hand and Statson handed him the wristband.   
"Get going when you're ready."   
"Sure, sir."   
Matt watched in suspense as Daniel rocked back and forth in a kind of lunge, then suddenly shot away. His time, when he arrived back at the destination, was one-twenty-three; Judging from his face, he was not necessarily satisfied with himself. For Matt, however, it meant only one thing: all the others would now be twice embarrassed.   
"Name?"   
"Daniel Lukas, sir." The surname appeared next to the time on the large blackboard.   
"You." Statson pointed to Thomas.   
"Thomas Wilmod, sir."   
Daniel passed the bracelet on. Thomas was a tall big guy and anything but quick or agile, his time was way beyond Daniel.

When the first ten recruits had been tortured by the parkour- Matt had the impression that Statson had deliberately selected those who would be slow- the coach commented dryly:   
"That looks like a lot of pushups." He turned back to the recruits. "You."   
"Matthew Horner, sir." Matt accepted Willem's bracelet and went to the start. Chris and Zachary had already run and had not glared with fame, he would hardly deliver a better time himself. But when he arrived at the finish and took a look at the timetable, he could hardly believe it: he was better than his roommates and seemed to be in the midfield.   
"You."   
"Dylan Foster, sir."   
Matt gave the bracelet to Dylan, who was spraying with suppressed energy, and joined Alex.   
"Could have been worse," he murmured at his questioning look.   
"Worse is always possible," Alex mumbled back. Meanwhile, Dylan shot through the parkour like an oiled bolt, reaching a peak of one-nineteen. Statson nodded curtly.   
"You."   
"Alexander Grayson, sir."   
Impressed, Matt watched Alex, despite his physique, chase through the parkour in a very agile and lithe way, and come out with one twenty-two.   
"How does he do that?" Dirk mumbled jealously. Matt would have liked to know that too.   
"You."   
"Alanis Hamilton, sir."   
Tense silence crept into the hall. Hamilton put on the bracelet and hopped from one foot to the other at the start line, before she shot away with a slightly larger hopping. Matt's gaze still clung to her as she came to a stop behind the finish line. Their eyes met and with a perky grin she blew a strand of hair from her forehead before turning to the timetable. One eighteen. With that she took the lead and all but Daniel seemed more or less impressed - even Statson, who nodded to her almost benevolently.   
"All right," he said, "the five slowest ones. You're running again."   
Matt saw Zachary grimace, but he was incredibly happy not to be a part of it.

And after the second run he was doubly happy because:   
"I warned you. The five slowest ones are now allowed to do pushups."   
"Sir, how many?" Jeremy dared to ask.   
"Until I say stop, McMillan." Statson replied coldly. "Lukas, Hamilton, Foster, Grayson- you may also look forward to a second run. Let's see if you're still happy after it." Statson waved the remaining round. "Come along. We're rebuilding the parkour." The parkour was not easy, but Matt got the impression that Statson was intimidating them at the beginning. On instruction, they reduced the spring force of diving boards, built boxes higher and removed one or the other jump help. Under these circumstances he would not have got through here.   
"Chop, chop back to the start. Let's see if our rabbits can still jump and hook so well."   
Matt joined Chris and Zachary on the side edge. Alex was the first to go and this time he had to defeat himself, but Dylan also seemed to have a few problems because he was heard cussing across the hall, cursing under his breath. Then Hamilton started. Again she jumped from one foot to the other, before she started running out of the movement.   
"What do you think...", murmured Chris to Matt, "... is she a road runner?"   
"What?" Matt was distracted.   
"You know ... Road Runner ... those semi-legal street couriers who carry hot documents and stuff like that ..."   
Matt knew well what a Road Runner was. "How did you get that?"   
"Did you look at her? More than her bottom?"   
"Sure ..."   
"Then you should know what I mean."   
Matt arched an eyebrow, but he could not avert his gaze. Hamilton stumbled, deftly rolled over her shoulder and still managed a jump for which Matt would have had plenty of run-down. With a _Huuu_ she ran to the finish.

\---

Alanis had the dull feeling of exaggerating it in her I-show-you wish. Because the gazes were now even more intense and accompanied by whispering, if it came from freshmen. But at the same time, it felt good. _I am more than a pretty blonde._ This mantra she repeated for the thousandth times when one of the older recruits almost fell into the correctly buttoned neckline as she left the dining hall. She stopped at the bulletin board.   
"Look, the clubs are open." Veronica seemed excited.   
"Clubs, sure ...", Lisa murmured disparagingly and continued shaking her head. "See you ..."   
Steph looked skeptically at the various lists. "Do you think they let us in?"   
"Well, try and find out, I think," Scarlett said thoughtfully. "What do you mean, Alanis, do you register somewhere?"   
"Let's see ..." Actually, she had no great desire to waste her spare time on a club, but on the other hand ... Her eyes fell on the garden club and she had to smile. A handful of recruits from the second and third year had registered, but none of the freshmen. On top of that, the various technical clubs were already bursting at the seams.   
"Air traffic controllers ... that sounds interesting," Scarlett said.   
"I don’t know ..." Steph said softly, "I think I'm signing up for the first aid course."   
"You can always make use of that," Veronica reassured her as she picked up the pen.   
"Practicing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation will be very popular," predicted Alanis with a warning tone.   
"I ..." Steph blushed and dropped her hand again.   
"Come on, we'll do it together." Veronica grabbed the pen from Steph and joined in the list.   
"Brave.", Scarlett commented drily, scribbling her name on the list of air traffic controllers.   
"Oh, to hell...", Alanis finally mumbled and put her name on the garden club list. Maybe she could get some other thoughts there.


	5. Meet the Pink Penguin

"Garden club? Seriously?" Dylan arched mockingly an eyebrow. Before Matt could answer, Chris spoke:   
"Hard and honest work that you end up with something visible."   
"Or in a little bit different way: you get your head clear if you don’t want to just learn all day," Zachary added, without, however, taking is head out from his math book.   
"Yeah...", Matt started slowly, but the discussion suddenly took place without him, even though he was concerned.   
"I can think of nicer things than mowing lawns," Alex interjected.   
"Absolutely..." Zachary murmured absently, but Dylan grinned.   
"Where you just say _nice_ ... Hamilton has enrolled for the club."   
"Did she?", Matt asked, although he was aware of this on the one hand and was ignored to the other.   
"Oh, well then there's even something nicer to admire than tomatoes." Alex grinned back.   
"You think she's pretty?" Chris asked doubtfully.   
"Sure. Unfortunately, just a number too big for me." Dylan pointed with one hand to the size difference.   
"Well, Matt is not the tallest...", Zachary answered again from the background.   
"Hey!" Matt protested, but Alex shook his head.   
"It doesn’t depend on size, Dylan, but on the inner values." He laughed at his own joke and Matt shook his head.   
"First of all, the look decides. And then comes the character.", Dylan taught now Alex with raised index finger.   
"In terms of looks, Hamilton gets a clear _yes_." Alex shrugged.   
"What's so great about her?" Chris intervened again. He sounded a little annoyed.   
"Breasts. Butt. Blond.", Dylan listed.   
"In any order," added Alex. "But ..."   
"More butt than boobs?" Dylan asked curiously.   
"Yeah..."   
"Guys...", Matt tried again, but Dylan and Alex were deep in enthusiasm for a conversion attempt for Chris, who apparently didn’t find anything overly attractive to Hamilton. Matt sighed softly and shook his head. Zachary seemed to have completely blanked out the conversation by now and so he left the room to go to the garden club.

\---

"You two grab the mowers. Start at the front of the avenue, yes? You take care of the lop. Your three start with the apple harvest. And you two ..." The gardener turned to Matt and Hamilton as the older recruits moved away with their instructions. "Alanis and Matthew, yes?"  
They nodded.   
"Do you have any idea about fruits and vegetables?"   
"A little, sir." Hamilton said carefully.   
"Look, girl, I'm George, not a sir. We have all given names and I want you to use them. Okay?"   
They nodded again and George indicated a smile.   
"So again: yes or no?"   
Hamilton nodded; Matt shook his head.   
"Fine. Come with me ..."  
They followed George into one of the greenhouses. "We start slowly with the peas." He took from a shelf two small secateurs and nodded his head in the direction of a stack of boxes. "Take some of them." Matt took three boxes and entered after George the main part of the greenhouse. In five rows, between which there was hardly any room for a human, tied pea plants pulled far back.   
"There are different pea varieties, all of which are harvested at different times. Since we use ours as normal vegetables, the pods must be tight and firm, like this one." He snapped off a pod with his fingernail and held it under Matt's nose.   
"Okay ..." he said uncertainly, while Hamilton nodded.   
"Start here on the left and work your way backwards. Let's see how far you come. Questions?"   
"May we snack, Sir-uhm-George?" Hamilton asked, blushing a little, but George grinned.   
"Sure. As long as you're not just busy eating. I'll see if I can get back my lawnmowers tonight in one piece. See you later. And be diligent." He tapped the imaginary hat and Matt stood a bit stunned. Hamilton grabbed a pair of scissors and a box and just started. Reluctantly, he also took a pair of scissors and a box and moved to the other side of the plant row to follow Georges instructions.

For quite a while, they worked silently facing each other. In Matt's ears it was a pleasant silence, for beside the library it seemed to be the only quiet place at the academy. Hamilton occasionally hummed something that sounded like the chorus of a song, but Matt could not bring himself to ask; it was a very peaceful quarter of an hour. Then Matt banged his head on something above him when he got up.   
"Ow!"   
Hamilton tried to suppress a giggle.  
"What the ...?" He turned and rubbed the back of his head. At a very unfavorable height hung a plant basket from which grew a dark-green plant, which carried cherry-sized fruits in deep black-red on fine stems. Matt glared down the row - all the other baskets hung higher up.   
"Do you know what that is?" He looked questioningly at Hamilton, who sneered at him through the strained pea shoots.   
"A plant basket."   
He rolled his eyes.   
"I know them by the name of love beads.", She answered his actual question. "The fruits are hallucinogen and considered aphrodisiac." Although she didn’t look at him any further, she seemed extremely amused.   
"Are you serious?", He asked skeptically and glanced at the shiny fruits. Her answer was a mockingly ruffled mouth and a raised brow.

He didn’t say anything, but kept working until he filled the first box of pea pods and brought them to a collection table. When he went back, a love-beaded vine brushed his ear and he hastily brushed it aside as if it were a mosquito. Hamilton was still smiling mischievously.   
"What?"   
"Nothing..." she said casually, but it sounded as if she had said _coward_. Despite that, defiance turned up in Matt and he reached up to pick one of those love beads. Carefully he put it in his mouth and almost immediately it burst. A taste that was best described as _summer_ exploded on his tongue. Melon, cherry, pear ... sweet and heavy, fresh and light... If the love beads had a seed, he had simply swallowed it down; he couldn’t even remember having swallowed anything of this fruit. Without thinking much, he picked a second ... and a third.   
"If you encounter pink penguins inviting you on a desert walk to talk about Parmesan, let me know," Hamilton said from the background. Matt blinked. There was something watchful in her eyes.   
"What?" He asked a little late.   
"Pink Penguins," she repeated slowly, eyeing him critically.   
"Uh ... sure ..."

\---

Alanis hoped that Horner could handle the love beads. If Marge had any, she gave in combination with alcohol a maximum of four per person. She would have to keep an eye on him. Silently, they continued to work, with Horner slowly but surely getting a little bit nervous. His hands were shaking and he blinked away in one.   
"Fine, I think that's enough for the first day.", George called through the greenhouse. Alanis picked up her current box, put the scissors on top, and walked to the entrance. George nodded to her.  
"Good, good. The kitchen service will be pleased."   
"How come that a flight academy has that many greenhouses? ", She wanted to know curiously.   
"The founders have decided that the site should be used sensibly." George shrugged, then raised an eyebrow as Horner put down his box. "You snacked, huh?"   
"I warned him.", Alanis mumbled and looked past George. Horner had turned pale and his pupils were of different sizes.  
"I should have warned you, I'm sorry. Have a drink, boy. How many?"   
"Three ..." Horner answered vaguely. George sighed.   
"Usually nobody comes up with the idea of eating something he doesn’t know."   
Horner drew water from the tap with his hands and muttered, "Hamilton has-"   
"Alanis." George corrected him.   
"- told me what that is..."   
"I said I warned him." Alanis shrugged and as Horner, wet-faced, stepped back from the faucet, she quickly washed her hands. A little bit the bad conscience stirred, but she pushed it aside.   
"What the hell, the child has already fallen into the well. I've been trying to tell Vance for years that I think that's a bad idea ..." George sighed and stacked the pea-boxes. "But well ... If you heat up the love beads carefully, they lose their hallucinogenic power and make a wonderful compote." He gave both Horner and Alanis a stern look.   
"Thank you, Sir- George.", Alanis murmured while Horner nodded. George left the greenhouse with the boxes and Horner began to wash his hands again.

She could not help looking at him briefly. Everything about him seemed a little too broad, as if a final surge in growth was not going on. If it was still to come, and that was not impossible at eighteen or nineteen, he would be a really handsome young man.   
"Are you coming back to the West Wing on your own?" She asked hesitantly. He nodded thoughtfully and looked at her crookedly.   
"Okay..." She shrugged and left the greenhouse. Love beads at a military academy... such an idea... She found the thought almost amusing.   
Back in her room, the others looked at her curiously.   
"And?", Lisa asked finally stressed down from her bed disinterested. Alanis shrugged.   
"I saw one of your classmates signed in," Veronica began, then stopped under Scarlett's scrutiny. "What?"   
"We're not here to keep our eyes on the boys."   
"No," Alanis agreed. "But Horner doesn’t seem to be the kind of guy who can be impressed by pretty eyes." She winked at Scarlett, who smiled, but warned:   
"Don’t come up with stupid thoughts."   
"Not really ... Not until I graduated ..."   
"Right. After that, we can do all the stupid things we want."

\---

Judging by George’s and Hamilton's gaze, Matt didn’t look well. So much was up to him. Slowly he sauntered back to the main house and through the hallways until he finally needed three tries to pull the key card through the scanner. Alex and Dylan were sitting at the table, watching videos on their Phones while Chris was dozing on the bed listening to music. Matt fell onto his bed with his shoes and jacket and closed his eyes.   
"Hey ... uh ... are you alright?" Dylan finally asked cautiously.   
"Hmm.", Matt just said. Dylan's voice exploded with bright colors behind his closed eyelids.   
"Did something happen?" Alex asked. A chair scraped across the floor. The sound echoed in Matt's head and produced yellow waves.   
"Did Hamilton turn you down?" Dylan sounded almost worried.   
"Hmm?"   
"Hamilton..."   
"Oh ..." Matt groaned softly. A pink penguin waddled into the kaleidoscope and he suddenly felt sick.   
"What now? Has Hamilton-"   
"Pink Penguin..." he murmured and then he hastily rolled out of bed to plunge into the tiny bath to vomit. After rinsing his mouth, he stepped back into the room. The other three stared at him.   
"Is this the new codeword for Hamilton?" Dylan asked skeptically-amused.   
"Please, no. Otherwise I'll be sick if I see her."   
"That would be counterproductive." Alex mumbled.   
"Dude, you look damned unhealthy," Chris commented, apparently missing the start.   
"What happened?" Alex repeated his question from a few minutes ago.   
"You won’t believe me anyway ..."


	6. Punishment and Duty

"Since you are already dealing with the theory of flying, we now start with the different types of aircraft. Which classes are they subdivided into?" Waldo looked questioningly around. "McMillan."  
"Bombers, interceptors, ground or air attackers, spies, transporters ..." Jeremy paused and Waldo nodded.  
"Who is the atmosphere fleet particularly focused on today? Wilmod."  
"The Hellhounds."  
"And why?"  
"Because they have both ground and air combat systems."  
"Right." Waldo nodded slowly and Matt wondered what he was getting at. Matt had already worked through the book as a bedtime reading with all the technical data, explanations and particularities of the individual machines that were preferred in the service.  
"Speaking of Hellhounds ... who can tell me what's special about their development?" _About their development?_ Matt frowned thoughtfully. To his surprise, Hamilton raised her hand.  
"Yes?"  
"The Hellhound is the first operational and yet evolved fusion of the Fafnir interceptor and the Fenris hedgehopper."  
Even Waldo seemed mildly surprised. "You've learned to fly on a very old simulator, could that be?" Hamilton blushed a bit, searching for words before nodding and then answering:   
"Yes, sir. The Hellhound was still a prototype."   
"So you flew Fenris and Fafnir, too?"   
"Yes, sir." Waldo nodded in satisfaction and Matt gave Hamilton a quick look. Strangely, it seemed odd to her to admit that she was already able to fly. Or was it embarrassing that only such an old simulator had been available to her?   
"Then let's start with the Hellhound." Waldo took a remote from the drawer of the teacher's desk and activated the holograph, which then produced a blue-light projection of a Hellhound over the heads of the recruits.   
"You're here to become pilots, and every squadron has their technicians, but you should still be able to give your machine a little care yourself."   
Matt looked up at the Hellhound and stifled a smile.

\---

The rain, which crackled irregularly against the windows of the library through the gusts of wind, pushed past Matts headaches over and over again, disturbing his concentration. Finally, he gave up and rubbed his eyes. Alex, who was sitting opposite him, raised an eyebrow in question.   
"Headache." Matt murmured as an explanation.   
"Then go back to our room and lay down for half an hour. There's still time until dinner."   
"I'd like to finish my homework."   
"But with a headache, there's no sense in it."   
"I know ..." Matt sighed. He looked up at Alex's folder and was amazed. He held a pencil in both his left and right hands and created a technical drawing with both hands.   
"Left-handers have better connected brain hemispheres." Alex commented and paused.   
"I was not aware that you can work so well with the right." Matt took a pencil on the left and felt immediately a little helpless. Alex grinned and nodded to the next table where Hamilton, Grant, and O'Malley sat. To Matt's astonishment, Hamilton scribbled a page with a pen in her left hand and corrected O'Malley's drawing with a pencil in the right.   
"I think I'm wrong here..." he finally mumbled, looking at the disaster he had fabricated.   
"Oh, we can do it," Alex replied encouragingly.   
"So I'll be twice as stupid in the next test?"   
"Nonsense. These drawings are just occupational therapy. Once we get access to the simulators, the instructors will be happy if we even do any homework."   
Matt raised an eyebrow skeptically.   
"Come on, enough for today." Alex stuffed his pens into the pencil case.   
"Fine ..." Matt sighed again.

"I'm not getting it!" Dylan grumbled, burying his face in his hands.   
"I've explained it five times-"   
"Dude, it's not your explanation," he interrupted Zachary. "It's just because that's math."   
Zachary sighed, picked up his book and got up. "Anyone else trying his luck?"   
"I'm fed up with today." Dylan stuffed his things back into his bookcase, climbed onto his bed and buried his face in the pillow.   
"I think you need talent for math. Just like drawing." Matt shrugged and dropped into his pillow. Alex laughed softly.   
"Was that a subtle side blow?"   
"Maybe." Matt grinned.   
"Don’t worry, Dylan, we can handle it. You're not the only one desperate for math." Alex then said to Dylan.   
"Yeah?"   
"Hamilton looked even more frustrated in the library yesterday than you."   
"Hamilton? Pff, seems like she could do everything."   
"Everything, except math."  
"If she had studied something nice like pedagogy, she wouldn’t have to torture herself with it now.", Chris added his two cents a little derogatory.   
"Education? You don’t entrust small children to her. Dude, did you see what she wrote on her bag?" Dylan's face appeared on the edge of the bed. He grinned widely.   
"No."   
" _Kiss me and I'll be your widow._ " Alex replied with a grin.   
"Sounds like a warning," Matt commented.   
"It is." Alex nodded.   
"But above all, it proves that she has a good taste in music," Dylan said.   
"Why?" Matt wanted to know curiously.   
"Because that's a quote from a song by _Dead Sailor_. Its name is _Black Widow_. Wait ..." Dylan tapped his phone eagerly. Chris rolled his eyes, but before Matt could ask further, hard, dark-romantic sounds came out of the speaker. A man in a deep, raspy voice sang to a woman that he would crack her lips like a shell to get to the pearl.  
The wording of the first stanza alone gave Matt red ears.   
" _My kiss tastes sweet like love, but is a bitter poison. So- kiss me and I'll be your widow, black widow, my love._ " Alex and Dylan sang the last chorus loudly.   
"That doesn’t seem to be the kind of music you like," Chris commented and Matt shook his head with bright red cheeks.   
"You're innocent head to toe, huh?" Alex smiled over at him and Matt lowered his eyes. There was a tiny pause, then Dylan shouted,   
"Then maybe this is just the right thing!"   
"What do you have there?" Chris wanted to know. Dylan climbed down from his bed again and proudly presented a small black ball.   
"That, my dears, is a radio camera."   
"You’re serious?" Alex took the thing out of his hand and raised an eyebrow.   
"Do you think Hamilton is nude prettier than dressed?" Chris asked skeptically.   
"About pretty or not pretty, I don’t fight with you anymore." Dylan grinned. "But you could add sexy then."   
"Wait, you want to bring the camera into the women's bathroom?" Matt asked horrified in between.   
"Where else?" Alex replied, shrugging.   
"You’re crazy!" Matt stared outraged at the three.   
"What? We don’t make porn out of it." Dylan grasped the camera without understanding. Zachary sniffed.   
"You should probably know how the thing works before you want to use it."

Speechlessly, Matt just sat there, until at some point Alex turned to him and examined him scrutinizing.   
"You don’t peach on us, right?"   
Matt shook his head. But inside he struggled with himself. Hamilton had in several weeks with her mocking smile and remarks made him furious inside, but it was not right that the others just wanted to install a camera in the girls’ bath.   
"Okay," Zachary finally said, "let the update for the camera run on your phone. Then we can put it on tomorrow."   
"Alright." Dylan nodded, looking for a cable.   
"Are we going to eat then?" Alex seamlessly changed the subject. Matt nodded silently, though his appetite had passed.   
The food on offer didn’t necessarily add to his mood, and as he let his eyes wander uneasily through the dining hall, he hung on to the girls' table. Hamilton and Grant were, as always, cool beauties who sat proud and upright. What would Governor Grant say if it were known that his granddaughter's nude pictures were flying around? Matt put the cutlery aside.   
"I'll go to the library for a while..." Without waiting for the others to react, he got up and took away his barely-touched food. He would throw a note in the mailbox of the council; Although his conscience did not like the fact that he was cheating on his room-mates and lying to them, that was just the lesser evil.

 

But the following night, when the other four crept out after curfew, Matt could not sleep. He had a terribly guilty conscience while a voice whispered to him that he should be out there with them. It took forever for them to come back.   
"Matt?" Alex asked in the darkness.   
"Huh?"   
"Did you peach on us?" He sounded calm, but almost disappointed.   
"No. I'm not a comrade pig." It almost tied his throat. "What happened?"   
"Well, they caught us, what else?" Chris turned on his bedside lamp and shrugged.   
"And now?"   
"Officially, we get a punishment service because we disobeyed the curfew," Zachary replied, climbing onto his bed.   
"And unofficially, because we acted without the permission of the Council," added Alex.   
"They took the camera from me." Dylan complained.   
"Do you think they guessed something like that?" Chris mused.   
"Well, possible." Matt shrugged.   
"Yes, possible.", Alex agreed. "Anyway, freshmen are almost always cocky." He pulled the blanket up to his chin. "Whatever. Could have been worse."   
Thereby the topic seemed to have finished and Matt rolled himself under the blanket. That the Council now had the camera didn’t make it better. But his roommates wouldn’t have to take responsibility for possible pictures.

\---

Alanis woke up before the alarm clock ringing. The first four weeks were over. Thirty-two, minus the Christmas break, were left. Veronica snored softly. Oddly enough, she had gotten used to the sound even though she had always slept alone. She had more or less settled in, had found her rhythm and also learned to appreciate the little rays of hope. Giggling with Steph about girl talk, exchanging derogatory remarks about the recruits with Scarlett, or having fun with Veronica's naïve chatter. Or about Horner, who was remarkably talkative in the greenhouses, despite the girl's insistence prescribed by the council, and blushed so beautifully. How far could she put him into trouble? The thought was cheerful and joyful she stood up.  
  
"Wait a minute ..."   
"Hmm?", Alanis turned questioning to Lisa, who had stopped at the bulletin board.   
"Do you have a class representative?"   
"No, why?" Alanis asked back.   
"Tomorrow is a meeting."   
"Well, then the election will probably be on the program today or tomorrow, don’t you think?"   
Lisa shrugged and was as disinterested as ever at the press of a button. Alanis stifled a sigh and took another look at the bulletin board. She stopped at the word _punishment_ and raised an eyebrow. At the list for the kitchen service were suddenly the names of her classmates Arlington, Evans, Foster and Grayson. Horner, who shared a room with them, was missing. What did they do to get a week's kitchen service done? And why didn’t their roommate go along? Or had Horner peached on them at the end? Well, she didn’t care.   
But when she entered the dining hall and saw the naked back of Arlington, who was refilling the coffee dispenser, she wondered again what they might have done. Except for underpants, shoes and an apron, on which in bold letters **punishment** was written, the four wore nothing, which was just a nice sight with Grayson.   
"What do you think they did?" Scarlett mumbled to her in the queue.   
"Cannot have been so rough if it's just a week's kitchen duty." Alanis mumbled back.   
"Do you know? After all, three-quarter-naked kitchen service is not exactly pleasant."   
"Oh, I can imagine worse ..."Alanis grinned, but Scarlett grimaced.   
"Please ... Arlington's chest is fluffier than my rug."   
Alanis snorted in suppression.   
"And Grayson is so pale you're almost snow-blind." Scarlett continued critically.   
"Let me guess ... Evans is too thin for you and Foster too small?" Alanis chuckled, trying for whisper.   
"You can say so, yes." Scarlett nodded; head tilted.

"Now that you've settled in a bit and gotten acquainted with your classmates, today we'll choose a class representative." Tutor Waldo announced happily in the first class of the day. "As you have probably already seen, tomorrow is already the first meeting. Do I have to explain to somebody what a class representative does? No? Then I would like some nominations."   
Alanis raised an eyebrow and sat back. Since she was not integrated, she really didn’t know anyone. Wilmod had attracted attention with his subliminally aggressive manner, Lukas was always condescending and self-confident, Evans seemed to be the negative example of a swot, Foster in front of her was already getting on her nerves and otherwise...  
She raised her hand. "I nominate Horner."   
"What?", He promptly baffled.   
"I'm in favor of it!" Foster teased enthusiastically.   
"You want to be put up for election?" Waldo asked almost amused. Horner made an indefinable sound and then nodded a little uncertainly.   
"Do we have a counter-candidate?"   
Lukas raised his hand. "I would offer myself."   
"Very nice. Anyone else? No?" Silently, heads were shaken. "Then scribble a name on a scrap of paper and throw it in the ballot box." Waldo knew how to make himself popular, because in addition to his always casual choice of words, he now held a small cardboard box with the imprint _EspressoBons -like freshly brewed, just stronger._ Alanis snatched a snippet from her scheduler and wrote Horner's name on it before folding it up, waiting for Waldo to walk around picking up the notes.   
"Hamilton, come to the board and run a tally."   
A little uncomfortable, Alanis stood up and picked up a chalk pen.   
Ten minutes later, the result was very clear. Seventeen votes for Horner, only three for Lukas. He was looking for a stony appearance, but could not hide a slightly piqued expression.   
"Do you accept the choice of your classmates?" Waldo seemed extremely satisfied.   
"Yes, sir." Horner nodded, his initial insecurity was gone.   
"Well then that would be done."


	7. Music and Carrots

Alanis couldn’t help but notice that Horner took his new duties, such as classroom opening or closing, or reviewing the class book, extremely seriously. She watched him for two weeks, and indeed everything about him was always correct, tidy, conscientious and meticulous- all but his behavior in the greenhouses. Strangely, this contrast amused her immensely, but it wasn’t difficult for her to give him a sweet smile over the vegetables in the afternoon, and scowling in the dining hall in the evening because he was in the way.  
"What are you thinking about, Al?" Scarlett asked, looking at Alanis questioningly.   
"Don’t call me like that.", She grumbled once more, before she shrugged. "The classes. Did you hear we should-"   
"Get out of my way, whore.", Someone hissed from behind. Scarlett was pushed aside and hit Alanis.   
"Hey!"   
"I hardly believe the governor will allow his granddaughter to become a whore," someone else intervened.   
"You haven’t the faintest idea!" Mocked the first. Alanis turned to him- by judging the star by the collar, a second-year recruit. On his sleeve was written T. Beckett.  
"If you give her money, she'll spread her legs."   
She recognized the other as Shale, Scarlett’s classmate who angrily answered:   
"You only say that because she's black." Among the recruits, who were already watching, sighed a few because Shale had to dig up the ancient conflict again. His skin was even darker than Scarlett’s, which had also gone a little pale and grabbed Alanis by the arm to keep her from interfering.   
"Black or white, it doesn’t matter. Whore stays whore. And the- uff!" Shale had rattled off and rammed a fist into Becketts stomach. Immediately, a broad circle formed around the two, who were now punching each other in the wide passage in front of the dining hall.  
Alanis and Scarlett pressed against the wall and Alanis let her gaze wander over the crowd. No one really seemed willing to intervene; whoever didn’t yell, at least more or less intently watched the fight. Eventually she spotted Horner and he returned her gaze. He nodded slightly, then said something to Grayson who was standing next to him, then called loud and clear:   
"That's enough!"- As he stepped forward. Amazingly, it almost immediately became silent, only Beckett and Shale beat on.   
"I said That’s. Enough. Now." He grabbed Beckett, who was taller than him, by the shoulder and pulled him back while Grayson grabbed Shale.   
"I'm not done with him!", Shale snarled angrily and Beckett replied venomously:   
"I'm not talking to whore cuddlers!" He spat Shale at his feet.   
"Yeah, thanks for the helpful comment." Horner grabbed Beckett by the arm and pulled him away.   
"Hey! What you’re doing? Let go off me!"   
"You've earned an audience with Director Vance, Beckett," Horner said imperturbably. The onlookers made ready place.   
"What about Vincent?" Grayson asked coolly, still holding Shale.   
"Shall come as well," Horner replied over his shoulder. The four disappeared.  
"That's what they call inborn authority ...", Alanis mumbled more to herself than to Scarlett, who stared down the corridor with an unreadable expression on her face. She was almost impressed and gently touched Scarlett's arm.   
"Everything alright?"   
"Hm? Yes." Scarlett nodded curtly but uncomfortably. "Let's eat." At that moment, Veronica pushed her way through the crowd.   
"Scarlett! Everything alright?"   
The mask of cool disdain for everything around her slipped back onto Scarlett's face. "Thank you, sweetheart."   
Veronica nodded, relieved. "Alright..."   
But Alanis knew that not everything was alright. It might have taken six weeks to get the first outbreak, but now the ice was broken. Now the game really started.

\---

Matt also wondered the next day why one look from Hamilton was enough for him to interfere. It had felt like she was yelling at him _do something_! He had somehow been forced to actually say something. He was quite a bit proud of himself - he had never dared to do that before - but he was also surprised at himself.   
"You still look like you have a stomachache." Alex remarked at that moment. Together, they left the main house- Alex went to the flight technology club, Matt to the garden club.   
"I don’t know... I still wonder when I've managed to gain so much confidence."   
Alex shrugged. "We'll all grow up."   
"Why didn’t you say anything?", Matt wanted to know then and pulled up shoulders in the cold wind. Alex snorted.   
"You ask that seriously?"   
"Well ..."   
He sighed. "Either they take me too seriously or not at all." Then a crooked smile crept onto his face. "Keep it up. I might like the role of the sidekick."   
Matt raised an eyebrow. "Sidekick? Honestly ... you are definitely not a _sidekick_. And certainly not mine."   
Alex threw him a I-let-you-stay-in-that-thought look. "You'll see..."   
"Hey, I meddled in _once_ and-"   
"You have to go that way." Alex went away and Matt grimaced.

While Matt and Hamilton were digging onions, carrots, and weird green-purple roots, Hamilton hummed happily. It always astonished Matt how her strict mask as she entered the greenhouses fell away from her, revealing a very laid-back young woman. He picked up a box of white onions and brought them to the entrance. When he came back and knelt on the damp earth, he asked:   
"What are you humming all the time?"   
" _Black Sins_. Not your music," she replied over the carrot green.   
"How do you know that?"   
"Hmm. Hard electric sounds. Society criticism, sex, violence, party, drugs..." She looked up and Matt frowned. "Everything in a wild mixture, garnished with a little love and self-doubt and maybe a little drama."   
"Um ..."   
"No? I thought so." She smirked.  
" _Black goddess let me be your holy tribute. Do whatever you want- I want to forgive you everything- just tonight. Black goddess- take my heart from my chest, bend into my lap and let me die of lust_."   
"Uh... "   
Hamilton began to sing, surprisingly deep and smoky, seductive to match the lyrics. Matt blushed, but she didn’t care. She sang a verse here, a chorus there, and went through the repertoire of the band - sex, violence, alcohol, self-hatred. Matt couldn’t really do much with it, but he had to admit that the vocabulary of the more explicit lyrics was good enough to make the mental cinema go crazy, but not obviously perverted. And her voice was beautiful.  
As they met at the entrance to drop boxes of onions and carrots, she suddenly raised her finger accusingly.   
_"You give me the reason, you give me control... I gave you my purity, my purity you stole!"_   
Matt fell back in surprise when she evidently included him in her performance.   
_"Did you think I wouldn’t recognize this compromise? Y'think I'm just too stupid to realize? Stale incense, old sweat and lies, lies, lies!"_ Half angry, half despising, she pushed the index finger into his chest. He bounced against a shelf and almost lifted his hands defensively.   
_"It comes down to this ... your kiss ..."_ She paused and for a tiny moment, Matt wondered if she had forgotten the text, until he realized that she was a little too close to him and her hand laid flat on his chest. As soon as he realized that, her mischievous smile came back and she took a step back before she turned and went back to work. He blinked after her shortly before he shook his head in confusion and followed her.  
After a long pause, staring out of the corner of her eyes, she remarked:   
"Not your music, huh?"   
"Not quite..." he murmured, blushing as she laughed softly.   
"I want to see the woman who steals your purity..."   
With burning cheeks Matt took a deep breath.   
"Good work back there! You may go for today!" George exclaimed from the front.   
"Alright!" Hamilton called back and with a bundle of carrots in her hand she stood up. Matt carefully put the last onions in his box and followed her. As he joined her at the tap, she was rinsing a carrot. From a low hum, she started singing again:   
_"I search inside the dust - you smell like sex. I need it fast - you need it now."_ She held his gaze and then slowly and lasciviously slid the carrot into her mouth. As she bit off, it crackled loudly and Matt flinched. With a fine smile, she turned away and left. He swallowed hard and forced himself not to look after her, but to wash his hands.

\---

Matts stomach growled.   
"You’re lucky- it’s eating time," Zachary said next to him and got up to put his books down.   
"What? Food?" Chris murmured, raising his head in confusion.   
"Up, up!" Dylan hopped off his bed and Matt closed his book. After Hamilton's vocal performance, he couldn’t really concentrate because text fragments scurried through his head. Another stomach growled.   
"Well then let's go before Matt starves." Alex threw in a grin.   
"Wasn’t me." Matt retorted and Chris muttered:   
"Me." He yawned, then added, "I hope there's something decent."   
"We'll see that in the dining hall." Zachary shrugged.

"Somehow I had hoped for something else.", Chris then commented the dinner disappointed.   
"Carrot stew is something decent," Zachary instructed as Matt's appetite faded.   
"But it's vegetarian!" Dylan grumbled.   
"Humans do not need meat every day." While the other four quarreled over nutrition issues, Matt's stomach began to seriously protest. But when he sat at the table and took the first spoonful of stew, he had Hamilton in mind. The carrot piece on his tongue was suddenly heavy like lead and tasted similar. He pushed the plate away and grabbed the little bun.   
"What's going on? Don’t you like it?" Dylan mumbled to him with his mouth full.   
"I lost my appetite." Matt murmured, his stomach rumbling.   
"How so? Did something happen? "Alex looked at him with concern.   
"No ..." Matt unwillingly raised his gaze and looked at the table, which had established itself as a girls' table. As if she could feel it, Hamilton looked up and with a sarcastic smile pushed a piece of bread into her mouth. Suddenly Matt chewed on cardboard.   
"Are you getting sick?" Zachary asked, frowning.   
"Maybe..." The others looked at him critically as he put the bun aside and grabbed the dessert. White chocolate mousse melted splendidly, accompanied by a fruity sauce ... the taste of which was familiar to him on the second spoon and caused nausea on the third spoon. Love beads. Frustrated, he hid his face for a moment in his hands.   
"I think he's getting really sick." Dylan whispered anything but quietly. "He doesn’t even want the dessert."   
"Happens." Chris mumbled, not seeming to be angry about a second plate of stew. Zachary grabbed the bun and Alex reached across the table to finish the rest of the dessert.

"I don’t understand what was so bad about the food." Alex started as he opened the door of their room. "Didn’t you even say that the carrot harvest is due this week?"   
"Yeah..."   
"But?"   
"Hamilton..." Matt didn’t quite know how to explain it.   
_"Hamilton?"_ Dylan prompted, leaning against the bed ladder as Matt settled on his bed.   
"She probably will not have sucked him the carrot," Chris casually interjected. Flabbergasted Matt looked at him. "Or did she?" Chris grinned widely.   
"Probably not.", Zachary noted soberly.   
"Did she take one?" Dylan wanted to know amused.   
"Why should she- oh…" The faces of the others said enough. Matt turned red. "Oh," he repeated.   
"Sometimes you are wonderfully naive," Alex said with a smirk.   
"And what did Miss Hamilton actually do?" Dylan asked curiously. Matt sighed deeply and then tried to describe what had actually happened.  
"She ate a carrot." Zachary repeated dryly.   
"Well not just eaten..."   
"That way?" Dylan lasciviously shoved a finger in his mouth. Matt grimaced.   
"Comes close..."   
"Maybe that was an invitation." Dylan shrugged.   
"And maybe she just enjoys annoying Matt." Alex crossed his arms amusedly in front of his chest.   
"Probably..." Matt mumbled.   
"On a scale of one to ten: how red was your face?" Alex asked after a tiny pause. Matt looked up. Since they would most likely tell him the story for the rest of their academy time, he simply said:   
"Twelve." As expected, the others laughed heartily.   
"Make sure she doesn’t cause you trouble with the Council," Zachary warned with a worried frown.   
"As long as he doesn’t get involved in her games...", Chris shook his head, shrugging. Matt shook his head as well.   
"Right now, it just gives me a headache."   
"That's what women do." Dylan remarked soberly and Matt sighed.


	8. Sword and Grindstone

The large gym caused Alanis a little discomfort. Especially now that a large net was stretched out in one third, of which she had no idea what kind of sport it might be good for; all the colorful lines on the floor irritated her immensely. While they were warming up, she listened to the more or less panting conversations of her classmates. From these, she learned not only that the Council had meanwhile announced actions, but also the daily program: volleyball. She had a rough idea about what it was all about, but it didn't surprise her that she was the only one to raise her hand when coach Statson asked:   
"Is there anyone who doesn't know volleyball?” Statson sighed, "Grayson, explain the game to her."   
"Yes, sir." He nodded and turned to Alanis with a frown. Somewhere someone murmured:   
"Normally she can do everything..."   
"Do you at least have any clue about it…?" Grayson asked carefully.   
"The ball has to cross the net?” She suddenly felt pretty stupid.   
"... right..."   
"Alex! Ball!" Arlington yelled. Grayson turned around and fished the ball out of the air.   
"Thank you! Um... yes... When the ball comes towards you, you can take it in two ways..." Alanis listened to Grayson's explanations and tried to implement what he showed her. The others played to warm up and seemed to have fun.   
"It must smack!" Statson shouted in between, van Houten gave a battle cry and then it rumbled loudly. When Alanis turned around, he layed moaning on his stomach.   
"Everything all right, Willem?" Stabler asked carefully. Van Houten groaned again, Statson sighed annoyed.   
"My goodness, can't you even be allowed to play? You can't do anything... Van Houten, get up. All your teeth still in there?" There was smeared blood around his mouth and he carefully smeared it on his shoulder. Then he mumbled something like "it's all right", but Statson didn't seem enthusiastic.   
"Stabler, take him to the infirmary. The others: Team building! Go! Go!"   
"Damn, now she has to play along..." Wilmod muttered clearly audibly. Since they were only eighteen now, it worked out exactly in the teams of six.   
"What? Are you complaining that you can see her boobs hopping?" Irving mocked a little quieter. Horner joined Alanis and Grayson, while Wilmod grumbled:   
"They can jump naked in front of my face for all I care, but not if I want to win.” This resulted in a major discussion about who should join her team, and Horner murmured:   
"What's so hard about forming teams?”   
"Didn't you hear Thomas?" Grayson asked, while Alanis mumbled back dryly:   
"You may guess three times..." Horner gave her a critical look. However, before he could say anything, Statson shouted annoyed:   
"You, you and you! Over there! And you there - you play first." He blew sharply into a whistle and Wilmod, Arlington and Kensington, with a sinister face, set off to join Alanis' team. Silently, they watched the first game and Alanis tried to understand and internalize the procedures. Volleyball wasn't difficult in general, but it required team spirit – which was missing from their team, as their first game showed. They lost as hard as they could.   
"Listen, guys," Horner started on the sidelines, "I know you have a problem with Hamilton, but either you pull yourselves together and pretend to be willing to win, or we all do push-ups." He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked gloomy.   
"I would be grateful if you would choose the prettier evil..." Grayson added.   
"We'll do push-ups anyway," growled Arlington and glanced at Alanis.   
"Possible. But if we don't have the will in Statson's eyes, he'll put thirty on top," Horner gave back coolly and then shrugged. "Your decision." He turned away and Alanis smirked, especially as the three obviously realized that he was right despite their reluctance.   
The next game went much better. Alanis didn't become a master just because she was now actually involved, but they scored points, especially thanks to Horner, who kept the overview and called out instructions. Just like Alanis wasn't a team player, he wasn't a lone fighter. _You'd think we'd complement each other_ , she thought.   
"Al!" he shouted at this moment and she jumped. When she landed again after a successful block and half turned around, she noticed Grayson's irritated gaze. Horner seemed surprised and Grayson saved the situation by critically saying:   
"Two letters more wouldn't have hurt."   
"Uh... sorry." However, Alanis had to admit that she didn't have to feel addressed by her unloved nickname. But it didn't matter, in the end they all had to do the push-ups except for the winning team.

\---

Matt was exhausted. Not only physically - he hated physical education - but mentally as well; using the _voice of authority_ , as Alex had named it with a grin, each time gave him an adrenaline rush that left him incredibly tired. Actually, he was way too shy for this shit.   
Hamilton entered the greenhouse as he was grabbing a basket for the green beans. She looked at him gloomy.   
"Grayson is right. A few more letters wouldn't have hurt."   
"Won't happen again," Matt murmured and turned away.   
"No, it won't."   
He didn't really want to argue and wanted to get to work, but she grabbed him by the arm.   
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" With a sigh he turned half to her. Almost immediately her dark face became soft. "Are you all right?" she wanted to know with a frown and let him go.   
"Yes. Why?"   
"You don't look like it."   
He just shrugged, but he hadn't even turned around when she grabbed him by the arm again.   
"Hey..." she said, but this time much more gently. "Sorry, I didn't want to snap at you like that." Skeptically he raised a brow. "Is everything really all right?” He nodded crooked and went behind to the man-high beans George had assigned to them. Hamilton joined him without another word, and when the first basket was half full, his inner tension had subsided to such an extent that after a sigh he said:   
"I'm a little overwhelmed with the overall situation." Surprised, she raised a brow.   
"You?"   
"Yes..." He dropped a handful of beans in the basket. Hamilton nodded to him. Would she laugh at him?   
"My high school- boarding school was one of those unpleasant ones," he started quietly.   
"How unpleasant?”, she asked quietly.   
"As unpleasant as one imagines military boarding schools to be. Don't ask me how I managed to get through it unharmed." Another handful of beans landed in the basket.   
"My best friend committed suicide when he didn't graduate."   
"Oh...", she made surprised.   
"The Xenon is at first sight clearly more civilized, but they don't want you girls here and after all I've heard, it could really get ugly. And I don't think that's right." Again, he threw beans into the basket. A few fell off, but he didn't have the nerve to pick them up now.   
"You made me class president and slowly but surely I'm being pushed into a role that doesn't suit me." To his displeasure, he noticed that his hands began to tremble.   
"I'm too shy for this authority shit. I'm not a moralizer or a know-it-all or-"   
"You got Grayson," Hamilton interrupted him.   
"Don't you start with it as well! I don't need... a _sidekick_ ," he replied angrily.   
"Call it whatever you want." She shrugged. "But you will need him.”   
"What do you mean?"   
"You're right, it will get ugly. And then the Xenon needs someone who intervenes neutrally. And someone who gets his hands dirty." Matt frowned and shook his head. "Yes," she replied to his wordless contradiction. "You’re not allowed to take sides. Neither in a fight like Beckett and Shale, nor when someone attacks one of us directly. You may raise your voice, but not your hand." The seriousness of her voice made him pause. For a moment they remained silent, then she said with the touch of a smile: "You'll grow into it."   
He snorted.   
"Don't you want to make Mum and Dad proud?", she added with her usual subliminal mockery.   
"They would be anyway," Matt murmured a little bitterly.   
"... I’m sorry," she said quietly. She actually seemed to be embarrassed.   
"It's all right." He gave her a quick glance. "Even if they were still alive... my dad hangs here in the gallery, so at the end I'll be compared to him anyway." Hamilton nodded a little and Matt turned back to the beans. He hadn't been able to get the courage to actually look at the gallery of award graduates. His great-grandparents, his grandfather, his parents, uncle and aunt- all pilots.   
"What about your parents?" he asked quietly.   
“My mother was murdered when I was three. And all I know of my father is that he was a soldier.” Before he could say anything, she shrugged. "You always meet someone whose childhood was even shittier than your own."   
"Where do you come from?" he wanted to know carefully. Instead of an answer, she pressed her lips together and turned away her gaze. Whereby it was actually answer enough. Chris, who at least came from an honorable farm planet, was also ashamed of his origins. But it strengthened his suspicion that she had a rather poor homeworld. He would have liked to have said something, but he couldn't find the right words, and so the silence dragged on. At some point she came back with an empty basket and had found her usual mocking smile again.   
"I'll tell you something..." she started when she kneeled down to pick the ground beans.   
"Hmm?"   
"You're the neutral authority out there, as loyal to the Council as your conscience allows. You get on everyone's balls a little and in here you can let out your frustration." Irritated, he raised a brow. She grinned up at him.   
"And you?", he wanted to know.   
"Me? Oh, I'm the cold, unwanted bitch who's happy to mess with you. This is going to be fun..."   
"Excuse me?" He blinked at her and wondered if he had heard correctly.   
"It's a warning, Horner. I want my degree. And sooner or later I will mess with the council for that.” The grin had disappeared from her face. "You must put me in place just like everyone else. But I won't make it easy for you, but I will try to drive you to rage." She paused while Matt looked at her in amazement. "That's why I said you can let your frustration out in here. Out there nobody should even notice that we're talking at all." It took him a while to find an answer.   
"You mean... in the greenhouses we are friends, and otherwise... _enemies_?"   
"Well, I wouldn't say it so drastically now. _Friends_ sounds so decent." She winked at him and he felt his cheeks getting warm. But as strange as this conversation was, he felt better when he was washing his hands later.   
"You know..." she broke the silence with a thoughtful tone and already dried her hands. "I came up with a comparison.”   
"What kind of?" he wanted to know.   
"You are the executioner's sword and I am your grindstone." That was a damn weird comparison.   
"Humanity hasn't used swords for quite a while," was what he actually said.    
“It's quite good this way." A strange smile surrounded her lips. Before he could ask any more, she had raised her hand and brushed his cheek with her thumb.   
"Scars would only spoil your pretty face." Once again, she had the last word.

\---

A shrill ringing ripped Matt from his sleep.   
"What?"   
"What is it?" mumbled Dylan.   
"What was that?" Alex was the first to get out of bed and opened the door. The ringing became even louder. Shouts sounded over the alarm and then Matt heard someone scream:   
"Roll call!” Hastily he got up and threw a sweater over before he slipped into his shoes. In the corridor they let themselves be affected by the general hustle and bustle, hurried down the stairs and ran to the roll call area in front of the main building.   
"Class 3d here! Line up in rows of four," someone next to him shouted. It reminded him of being class president, and so he began to call his comrades over the murmur. When the ringing in the house finally stopped, he was already looking at Zachary's back, while Hamilton next to him trembled uncontrollably in the frosty night. She wore long pajama trousers and a uniform sweater, but Matt had noticed before that she seemed to freeze easily. The sound of a whistle made him flinch.   
"That was pathetic," coach Statson was contemptuously interrogated. "The classes 2a, 2d and 3a are allowed to go back to bed. Move!” The relieved recruits hurriedly set themselves in motion. "Everyone else..."   
"Please no push-ups..." mumbled Dylan.   
"Three rounds around the house! But fast!” He blew his whistle again and Matt ran off with a suppressed moan. The shoes of their uniform were not made for the endurance run, especially not on grass slippery from the frost. Moreover, it was pitch dark and the whole time there was discontented cursing from all sides.   
"Somehow I had imagined my birthday more relaxed", Alex grumbled.   
"What? Today?", Dylan asked enthusiastically.   
"It's two o'clock at night, so yes, today."   
"It's a pity we're not allowed to go to the town. Otherwise we could have celebrated a little bit.”   
"It's Tuesday," Matt said.   
"So what? There’s gonna be another weekend." Dylan seemed to shrug. But for a longer conversation Matt lacked both the breath and the will, and when they had finished their three rounds around the main building after what felt like eternity, he fell into bed tired to death.   
"Assholes," it came from Alex when Zachary turned off the last night light.   
"What?" Chris asked.   
"I’m already giving you a broad hint..."   
"Happy birthday, Alex," yawned Matt.   
"Oh." Dylan made and hastily said his congratulations afterwards. Zachary and Chris also hurried to congratulate him.   
"But don't expect breakfast in bed," Zachary mumbled sleepily.   
"Too bad..."   
"Spoiled one-child." it came from Chris. Matt pulled the blanket up to his chin.   
"Shut up and sleep."   
"Yes, sir." But Dylan's answer lacked the guts.

\---

"The day after tomorrow we may fly for the first time!" Dylan jumped up and down like a bouncy ball.   
"Get back in the game, kid." Alex patted his head.   
"I don't know why you're so enthusiastic. Yesterday at the theory test you wouldn't even have made it to the runway," Zachary said. That sounded pretty nasty, but Matt knew he only wanted to hide his own nervousness. Dylan promptly pulled a pout and stopped jumping.   
"Don't argue, we-" Alex started conciliatory, but was interrupted by coach Statson.   
"So guys... air fight all well and good, but we stay on the ground for now." He blew his whistle and Matt had his ears ringing.   
"Until today this was a bit of a gimmick. You are here to become soldiers. Because, yes, pilots of the air force also fall under this definition. And as such you can look forward to an extensive digression in the matter of duel from today on." He himself seemed to be the most enthusiastic about it. Matt took a look at Hamilton and almost flinched for her gloomy look.   
"Who has official experience here, the rest there," announced Statson and Hamilton sat down on a bench on the wall, crossed her arms in front of her chest and poutingly crossed her legs.   
"What about her?" Matt wanted to know and nodded in her direction. Statson shook his head.   
"Was forbidden by Vance. Because of the danger of indecent touching." A few laughed. "And now show me what you got. Or rather didn’t." Matt sighed. In addition to his high school graduation, the boarding school had given him a preparation for the officer's career - and that included unarmed duel. What Statson understood by official experience, however, was not very clear. He assigned Matt and Chris to each other.   
"Say... are you all dirty tricks?" Matt wanted to know with a sore shoulder as he scrambled off the upholstery mats.   
"Those aren't dirty tricks, that's experience." Chris grinned broadly. "If you want, I can teach you a little bit." Matt groaned when he almost immediately saw himself slipping into defeat again.   
"Don't fidget, turn! Feet further apart!” He tried to implement Chris' instructions and could free himself from his grip only to be brought down by a kick.   
"Your footwork is horrible", commented Chris smugly.   
"He's right about that, for better or for worse. Get up, Horner, and try again," Statson added his two cents. Matt grimaced, but swallowed a remark. A little later Statson called out new instructions and to Matt's great annoyance he was now facing Alex.   
"You're not the only one who doesn't have fun today," Alex mumbled and nodded to the others. "You might think Zachary was a pacifist. He just refuses. And Dylan can dodge, but he can't hit."   
"You don't have to be able to do everything," Matt said, suppressing a sigh.   
"You look like you'd love to trade places with Hamilton," Alex remarked.   
"I'd love to see her punch Thomas or Daniel," Matt returned dryly. Both were after Hamilton and even when she stoically overheard it, her eyes flashed furiously. Alex laughed quietly.   
"Yes, that could be quite interesting. But wait and see, I bet at some point they provoked her enough. And now come on, hit me." Through Matt’s head went the words Hamilton had said almost two weeks ago: _"You may raise your voice, but not your hand.”_ It was so easy to say.   
"Come on..."   
Matt didn't hit, he kicked and started a series of attacks which had been hammered into him because it was effective against taller opponents. It took Alex much longer to adjust than Matt had thought, but then Matt had no chance.   
"Do you know how much strength you have?" Alex asked almost casually and turned his arm on Matt's back just to kick his foot away at the same moment.   
"Uff!” Matt landed ungentle on his belly.   
"Probably not. In my humble opinion, you have absolutely no feeling for your own body," Alex said and pushed him further to the ground. Matt struggled in an attempt to escape as long as he didn't put him completely out of action, but that only led to him suddenly getting Alex' knee into his private parts.   
"But don't worry," Alex continued calm as Matt yelped and leaned forward, a hand on Matt’s neck, "we'll manage. But not here and not with everyone else in the back of the neck.”   
"What?” Matt gasped and tried to turn his head. Alex let him go so suddenly as if he had burned himself.   
"Um... I'd like to insert a 'Please don't misunderstand me' before my last sentence." He was bright red and Matt nodded barely.   
"Okay..." Alex stood up and a little embarrassed he held out his hand. After a short hesitation Matt grabbed it and let himself be pulled onto his legs.


	9. The first flights

Alanis stared spellbound at the large white flight simulators standing behind the glass wall. They were much more modern than the one of Old Hobbs and were opened by their key cards. Instructor Clooney set himself up in front of Class 1a and scrutinized them strictly.   
"You will go through the standard machines of the Air Force one after the other. The system will evaluate you, I will evaluate you and you will take notes yourself. After this first phase we will decide together on which two machines you will be specifically trained on." He pointed to the large scoreboards on the wall.   
"As soon as the simulations are available to you for free training, it begins to tick there. If you want to deal with a new type of aircraft, you can fly an unscored simulation, but be warned: too many worthless simulations will also reduce your statistics at some point."   
Competition in its most beautiful form.   
"We start with the wombat. Does anyone know it?”   
Alanis raised her hand.   
"Describe it in one word."   
"Cumbersome." That didn't seem to be what Clooney had wanted to hear.   
"The Wombat is a combined rocket launcher and bomber that forgives most novice mistakes. Can anyone already fly?” Alanis raised her hand again and it surprised her a little that otherwise only Horner, Grayson and Lukas signed up.   
"Ah. Do you already have a preferred machine?" Clooney nodded to Horner, who seemed a little unhappy with the question.   
"Hellhound, sir."   
"Renegade, sir." Grayson replied.   
"Viking, sir." Lukas said.   
"Banshee, sir." Alanis replied.   
"Good, good..." Clooney took notes on his tablet. "You're still going through the beginner's program. Swing into the cockpit and go to radio channel 3. Warm up a little, I'll get back to you later." They nodded and went to the simulators that hummed quietly before opening after activation. Alanis jumped up the few steps and then dropped into the seat before taking the simulation helmet from a holder. She quickly fastened the seat belt and then pressed the big blue button on the side to begin the simulation. For a moment she was dazzled by bright light, then she sat in a wombat standing in a hangar right in front of the big gates. On her left according to the display were Lukas and Horner, behind them Grayson. She hooked up to radio channel 3 and started the engines; the sound was going through her body deep till the bones, but it felt good. With a smile she let the Wombat roll out of the hangar and onto the right of the two runways. The other three machines did not move yet. She let the turbines howl and then the Wombat made a jump. As ponderous as she remembered, the plane climbed into the sky.   
"Say, is it still going to be happening today?" Grayson then spoke up annoyed.   
"Yeah yeah..." Horner gave back. He sounded a little nervous. Alanis made a wide turn and saw Lukas at the runway; slowly he started rolling.   
"Hey Lukas... have you ever flown a wombat?"   
"No," he replied poisonously. Meanwhile Horner came out of the hangar.   
"Then a little tip from the sidelines: give it speed! The runway is damn short." Lukas cursed and then cursed again when he realized that she was right. He pulled the plane up untidy and Alanis wouldn't have been surprised if he hadn't made it, but apparently he had enough experience or simply was lucky because he turned to the side to clear the runway. Meanwhile Horner and Grayson were also ready for the start, but Alanis took another turn and didn't see them.   
"Damn it," Grayson said. " _Cumbersome_ is a nice phrase."   
"Yes... thanks for the warning," Horner added.   
"Well, so are bombers. Make a lot of mess, but are shitty to fly," Alanis said lightly. She flew - and she was happy.   
"How much experience do you have?", Grayson wanted to know curiously. She grinned broadly, but said modestly:   
"I've already gone through the beginner's program." Or two times. Or three times...   
"Oh... cool."   
"Under instruction?" Horner continued.   
"Sure. Otherwise I wouldn't have voluntarily sat in a bomber."   
"I can relate to that." Grayson sounded as if he was grinning. "Do you have any more useful tips?"   
"Related to the wombat? Or in general?", she asked back.   
"One step after another," Horner said thoughtfully. Tension still resonated in his voice.   
"Wombats are also therefore a begin- I wouldn't do that!” Alanis saw from the corner of her eye how Lukas set about a lateral role.   
"I know how to do this," it came back condescendingly. His role was three-quarters through when the wombat exploded.   
"What the hell?" Horner sounded shocked.   
"Holy… Daniel?" Grayson turned around and set off for landing.   
"Whether you say something or you don't..." Alanis muttered. Lukas gave a suffocated groan. Crashing in a simulation was something very, very unpleasant, even if it gave you the chance to do better next time.   
"Why...?" Horner didn't get any more out of it and also turned around.   
"Construction problem. I can't get it exactly together anymore, but something is disconnected at a certain angle. Almost all bomber types have the problem..." Alanis shrugged even though no one saw it. "And yes, I had such a nice explosion too."   
"How reassuring," Horner murmured. She grinned restrainedly and landed as well. The simulation ended and when she left the simulator, Irving and Wilmod helped a dazed Lukas to get out while about half of the class watched. Clooney came out of a surveillance corner with a narrow headset on his head and sighed.   
"I hope you've all learned something." The others came out of their simulators and Clooney shot a critical look around.   
"Think about your notes. You're dismissed."

\---

"Horner?"   
"Hmm?"   
"Never get back in a banshee."   
"Excuse me for flying a vertical take-off for the first time!"   
"Yes, you can see..."   
Matt growled without a word.   
"Dude, you can stand on the spot, so stop the big curves!" Hamilton's teacherly tone robbed him of his last nerve.   
"The way you fly, you'll be shot down despite the camouflage mode," she predicted five minutes later.   
"Could you simply shut up and let me handle it?", he hissed back. Alex laughed suppressed, while Daniel, as always, preferred to remain silent insulted.   
"Tzz..."   
Matt flinched when she suddenly shot up in front of him. In shock, he let the banshee tip to the right and then suddenly had to struggle with keeping the machine under control because it just didn't do what he expected.   
"Horner..." Hamilton hummed amusedly. "You're not sitting in a Hellhound..."   
"I. Know.”   
"Then fly like it." Alex interfered. "So far, you've gotten along with everything, so what's the problem?" The problem wasn't just the banshee itself. A vertical take-off plane, staying in the air, camouflage mode - with a little practice and flair he’d manage it. The problem was more that he immediately noticed being on Hamilton's terrain and that didn't do him any good. He put himself under pressure because he didn't want to stand behind her, but he couldn't say that, especially not in a radio channel recorded for evaluation purposes.  
  


"Hey, Horner."   
"What?" Even two days later, he was still pissed.   
"Let's hear!"   
"What?"   
"We are sitting in Hellhounds. So give us some expert tips."   
Daniel snorted, Alex laughed. He seemed to have a lot of fun on the beginner flights.   
"Well..." Matt started the machine and rolled out of the hangar. "The wing construction makes it difficult to roll and loop, I know what I'm talking about. Otherwise, this is a low-flying aircraft, which doesn't feel comfortable above the normal height. Take-off is easy, landing quickly becomes a disaster if you don't hit the right angle."   
"So it's not a beginner's plane," Hamilton summarized.   
"No." In the list of planes they went through in the first test phase, the Hellhound was the penultimate, after which only the Renegade was left. Nevertheless, Hellhounds were the base of the planetary fleets - only that most Hellhound pilots were trained directly on them and not on other types. He took off and turned a curve to watch Hamilton take off. She pulled the plane up late and shot extremely deep over the simulated airfield.   
"Well, the angle can be a bit steeper," he commented critically. Strangely enough she didn't give an answer, but Alex remarked after take off:   
"The Hellhound and I won't become friends. I knew that already, but I wanted to have noticed it once.”   
"Why?" Hamilton wanted to know concentrated.   
"Because Matt is right. Lay a little too much on your side and your wing will drill into the ground. If you don't crash directly."   
"Come on, don't exaggerate," Matt murmured. Hamilton giggled.   
"Well Grayson, for a Renegade lover, the Hellhounds aren’t the right thing. Too sensitive."   
"I know, I know." Matt heard Alex' grin.   
"You've flown Hellhounds before..." Matt said to Hamilton, but she interrupted him.   
"It wasn't much more than a prototype. The real Hellhound here is actually... well, _sensitive_." If Matt was honest, she was absolutely right; he had only completely adjusted himself to fly such a plane, just as Hamilton mastered her banshee.   
"Show me an evasive maneuver to the side," she then asked him.   
"Including role?"   
"That's exactly what matters to me." She went behind him.   
"Okay..." He almost had the Hellhound tipped to the side with a sudden jerk.   
"Hmm," Hamilton made indefinite.   
"You have to be quick. No hesitation, all-or-nothing," he tried to explain.   
"Hellhounds like it horizontal," Alex remarked. Hamilton laughed quietly.   
"Well then..." Matt hadn't really put himself in a good spectator position when she let the Hellhound tip over and got into a spin.   
"Woah, woah, woah! What is wrong now?" she muttered tensely. Flying on her back she caught the plane again, with a wobble she turned around properly again.   
"Nice..." commented Alex impressed.   
"Not bad," Matt had to admit. For someone who sat in a Hellhound for the first time, that was quite remarkable.   
"With a bit of general experience and flair it's not a big deal." Daniel said, slightly condescending. After their Viking flying lesson, he had been reprimanded for lack of cooperation and overestimation of his own abilities - and that was very obviously gnawing at him. But neither Matt nor the other two responded. Instead, Hamilton said:   
"Grayson, I fully understand you. Although _sensitive_ is probably not the right word.”   
"Which is?" Alex wanted to know curiously. It interested Matt, too.   
"I don't know yet. I think I'll have to tickle the Hellhound a little."   
"What do you mean?", Matt asked.   
"Hold still," was her brief answer. She approached him and only at the very last moment did she pull down sideways. The steering wheel vibrated as his Hellhound balanced the airflow. His heart hammered like crazy unnecessarily.   
"What are you doing?"   
"If I'm to fly a plane in battle, I need to know what it can and can't do."   
"You have your banshee."   
"Don't rely on it. I'd almost like to bet we're often randomly assigned a machine."   
"Gambling is forbidden to recruits," he said before he even thought about it.   
"Matt..." Alex said promptly a little annoyed.   
"I just mean... Yes, okay, your theory sounds possible." When she rushed towards him again, he pulled up his Hellhound.   
"There are rules for aerial combat," Daniel complained.   
"So what? You get used to crashing." Hamilton laughed quietly and almost a little crazy.   
"Sounds like you have a lot of experience with it," muttered Matt. She had already mentioned several times that she didn't want to repeat this or that from her own experience.   
"Well... it took me a while to learn how to land, and I wanted too much at first." She took a short break during which she probably shrugged. "Some machines don’t like that."   
"Like the Hellhound, for example.” Alex sounded amused.   
"Yes, for example.”

Matt watched Alex and Hamilton romp through the air in their Renegades. He couldn't think of another word. Renegades were interceptors, air fighters, and simply designed to perform the wildest maneuvers. But somehow that wasn't his style. He sighed quietly and dived under Daniel, pulled sharply to the right and made Alex sink hastily. After turning upward in a tight screw, he took a tight turn to the side and tilted away to the other side because Hamilton suddenly shot down. She laughed merrily.   
"Catch me!" That was probably directed at Alex, because he laughed back and the two chased away.   
"Like little kids," Daniel grumbled.   
"Leave them be," Matt quietly gave back. He wasn't in the mood for any discussions, no matter with whom. It was just a simple exercise simulation without any goal, but when Clooney just told them they could land now, he was happy to do so. Slowly he got out of the simulator and stretched until it cracked in his shoulders. Hamilton jumped out of her simulator and grinned all over her face, Alex also grinned broadly when he saw her. Somehow, it gave Matt a little stab. He nodded to Clooney in his corner and went to the lockers where they left their things during flight hours. Alex opened the locker next to him and gave him a quick look, but said nothing, probably because Hamilton appeared next to them. Matt put on his sweater, which he took off before the simulations for comfort, and then watched a little irritated as Hamilton pulled another one over her uniform sweater, then slipped into her thick jacket, wrapped an oversized fluffy scarf around her neck and shoulders, put on ear protectors, and then put on gloves.   
"Freezing owl," he said with subliminal mockery. She gave him a poisonous look, took her bag and left. Alex raised a brow.    
“Today is not your day, huh?"   
"No." Matt slipped into his jacket, wrapped the scarf around his neck and threw the bag over his shoulder. When he went outside, he regretted not thinking about his hat. It was bitterly cold and a cutting wind howled around his ears. Alex caught up with him with long steps, but remained silent until they reached the main house and Matt turned in a completely different direction than expected.   
"Where are you going?" Matt just nodded along the corridor and Alex followed him to the graduate gallery.

It took a moment for Matt to find his father, whose picture was at Alex's eye level.   
"Kenneth Horner," Alex said quietly. "Your dad?"   
Matt nodded.   
"You don't really look like him. Except for the eyes."   
"I know..." His father was freckled pale and had rust- red hair, which was almost catlike with the amber eyes.   
"He was a Renegade pilot.”   
Alex looked at Matt in silence for a while before saying: "I get it."   
And Matt felt he was actually doing. In high school, Matt had spent most of his spare time in the flight simulator trying to make friends with the Renegade. This had just worked so well that he could fly it excellently, but a Renegade quickly became a lone fighter and he didn't like it. He preferred to keep the overview and, in a Hellhound, in which all the daring maneuvers were unthinkable, he had more free thinking capacity. But he was still bothered, even if it was totally stupid to want to be like his father.   
"Revolution?”, Alex then asked carefully.   
"Mh." Matt nodded and looked at the picture again. "His father was some high-ranking officer who died in the gold-eye-attack. My parents then joined the reconnaissance forces and have died on Sandercand."   
"At the famous battle?"   
Matt nodded again. "My grandmother committed suicide after the death of her son and daughter-in-law and I grew up with my mother's parents. Together with my cousin, whose father was my father's best friend and also died on Sandercand."   
Alex grimaced in a pityful way. "I'm sorry."   
"There is no need. I've given up thinking about it in the meantime. I just wish I could handle the Renegade better."   
"Nonsense. You fly excellently. Besides... don't you think you're already sufficiently following in his footsteps?” Alex nodded to the picture. "You must leave your own marks in the history, too."   
Matt grimaced. "I know." Alex gently patted him on the shoulder.   
"Then heads up." Sighing Matt nodded, then he went after a last look to the photo through the gallery. "Where do you want to go?", Alex asked irritated.   
"Infirmary. Today is Club-time, but I can't stand Hamilton anymore today."   
"All right... see you later."


	10. Snowy Birthday

Alanis was awakened by an abundantly sleepy birthday serenade, which was accompanied towards the end by the piercing ringing of the five alarm clocks. She giggled anyway.   
"Thank you.”   
"I just wish it wasn't Wednesday," Steph yawned.   
"But we have Christmas holidays in a few days, so don't complain," Lisa said. Scarlett sighed.   
"And I wish I could spend Christmas with my family." Nobody said anything about that.

When Alanis entered the classroom a little late, everyone else was already seated. There was a tense silence, although instructor MacKenzie was not there yet. Suspicious and prepared for the worst, she went to her place - where a red rose lay. She raised a brow and took a look around. A few grinned cautiously, but otherwise no one flinched, no one lowered his gaze, no one blushed.   
"Sit down, Hamilton," MacKenzie said coolly from the door and she quickly complied with his request. "Today we will - oh. I wasn't aware that the garden-club was taking work home." MacKenzie was one of the instructors who had a very obvious problem with the presence of female recruits and his sentence provoked suppressed laughter as Alanis' cheeks warmed.   
"Sir, may I get up to dispose this most inappropriate gift?"   
"Please," he replied coolly. When she threw the rose into the trash with pointed fingers, she heard Withmer murmuring:   
"Maybe she'd rather have a gift of a different kind."   
Wilmod grinned. "We could make it happen."   
"Guys..." Horner murmured warningly.   
"Can we start then? Thank you.” MacKenzie cleared his throat. "So..." Alanis boiled inside, but she had to wait until lunch break before she could go to Tutor Waldo.

He greeted her with a friendly smile in his office. "Miss Hamilton. How can I help you?"   
"Sir, I'm sorry to bother you on your lunch break, but-" she started, but he interrupted her:   
"There's no need. I've already been informed of this rose."   
"Oh." Surprised, she looked at him and he nodded.   
"I know you wrote some kind of warning on your bag," Alanis lowered her gaze, "but I'll have a word with the boys. Although I don't know to what extent this actually reflects an individual's feelings, or whether it wasn't one of those strange Council actions."   
"Thank you, sir," she said quietly.   
"Be careful. The prickliest fruits are often the most desired," he warned quietly. Alanis nodded barely, although she laboriously swallowed down that she could really become very prickly.   
"You can always come to me if you have a problem with your comrades, you know that."   
"Of course, sir. Thank you." She just saluted and left the office. _Panic reaction, Alanis, panic reaction_ , she scolded herself. But she was just so angry! How many times in the last few weeks had Veronica or Steph come crying from class, how many times had Scarlett cursed and cursed for hours? How often had she had to let herself be told any kind of remarks? It wouldn't do any good if one of the instructors - one of the most gentle - raised a warning finger, but it calmed her down a little. At lunch Scarlett looked at her asking why she was so late, but Alanis mumbled: "Internal class disputes". Apparently, her tone of voice was enough to suppress any afterthought.

 

With a lot of frustration in her stomach, she then went back to the classroom, whose door was left leaning, although a few minutes were still missing before the start of class. When she entered, Horner stood at the teacher's desk.   
"... nothing to do with the Council. So- oh. Hamilton, could you wait outside for a moment?"   
"Why?" she asked back challenging. Apparently, Waldo had delegated the matter of the I-talk-with-the-boys without further ado.   
"Tutor Waldo asked me-"   
"Oh please. Do you seriously think one of the idiots would voluntarily admit it was him in front of everyone else?” Rolling her eyes, she walked past him to her place.   
"No. That's not the point either."   
"But?” She sat down and looked at him provocatively.   
"Such things should be clarified a little more privately. With a letter for example". Horner glanced back calmly, but it seemed as if he wanted to drill his fingers into the table.   
"Great. Anonymous love letters." With her mouth slightly distorted, she put her head crooked. "If anyone is interested, let them tell me directly. I don't need shadowy admirers." Before Horner could say anything, Wilmod laughed.   
"Means, I can always come to you for a fuck?" She shot a critical, condescending glance across the room.   
"I certainly don't sleep with you voluntarily."   
"Voluntarily or not, I don't care." He shrugged.   
"Thomas…", Horner warned, but he lacked sharpness due to speechlessness.   
"You seem to really need it. Doesn't anybody want you?” Alanis smiled mockingly.   
"Hamilton!” While Wilmod turned red, Horner became a little pale.   
"What? Even if he would be the last man in the universe... no."   
"Not even for money?", Irving wanted to know with a grin.   
"Not even that."   
Wilmod growled angrily. "You little bitch have never-"   
"That's enough now! Calm down!", Horner intervened. For a moment she looked at him provocatively, but since she didn't want to overdo it - in the end she would only feel sorry for Horner - she lowered her eyes to her bag and unpacked her things.   
"Please excuse the delay. Horner, sit down. McMillan, where did we stop the last time?" Instructor Fraser rushed in and dropped his stuff on the table. Foster gave Alanis a look over his shoulder and grinned broadly. "Foster, eyes forward," Fraser sounded promptly.   
"Very well, sir."

\---

There was tense silence in the simulation room while instructor Clooney studied his tablet. The first phase was practically over and everyone was curious to see how things would continue.   
"Gentlemen, since this is the last simulation round before the holidays, we will use it to practice a little.” He ignored Alanis in his choice of words, but she didn't care, she was still addressed.   
"You four will be flying your first mission today." Joyful excitement began to jump in her belly.   
"You will now draw your plane." He pulled small cards out of his shirt pocket, fanned them out and held them out to Lukas. "Please read out what you will fly with."   
"Avenger."   
"Withmer, what is an Avenger?"   
"An air fighter, sir."   
Clooney offered the cards to Grayson. "Viking."   
"Irving?"   
"Also an air fighter, sir."   
Horner drew a card. "Tenacious."   
"Evans?"   
"A heavily armored air missile launcher, sir."   
Alanis took a card and struggled not to make a face. "Toscan."   
"Kensington?"   
"A high-altitude bomber, sir."   
"More like a rose bomber," Withmer murmured amusedly. A few giggled and Alanis pressed her lips together. If Clooney had heard the remark, he didn't react.   
"Since you don't have an active ground fighter, I have to adjust the simulation, just a second." He tapped around on his tablet and continued a little absent-mindedly.   
"The others are divided into groups of four and can fly as they please. The focus is on take-off and landing. In the next few days we will ask you for a one-to-one interview in which your first and second aircraft will be determined." He looked up. "You can start." Alanis nodded and went to the simulator she had been sitting in since the beginning.

"And how does it work with the mission now?" Lukas wanted to know a little uncertain.   
"We get an explanation inside," Grayson replied, while Alanis was already swinging into the simulator. She buckled on, put on her helmet and suddenly felt weightless amidst the deepest blackness. It took an unpleasantly long moment until a male computer voice began to speak.   
"Not far from your base is a rebel camp protected by a flying squadron. Take out the enemy planes and destroy at least three buildings. The possible location will be marked on the map. You have five minutes for a briefing." White light flashed and then Alanis sat in the cockpit, her Toscan standing in a locked hangar. She quickly called up the map, while Horner already said:   
"Okay, we don't have a spy, so we have to find the camp ourselves. Hamilton, does your Toscan have a camouflage mode?" She was looking for the corresponding display with the activation button, but only found a jammer.   
"No, just a jammer. But that should do it. I can fly high enough to avoid the squadron."   
"Are your scanners still precise enough at this altitude?"   
"I don't know. We'll see."   
"Good. I'm afraid you'll have to drop the bombs twice. The second time you have definitely the squadron on your neck so-"   
"Then we should try to take them out first," Grayson threw in. "If this is a squadron of ten, then-"   
"No." Horner disagreed quietly. "The Toscan can't defend itself and we risk losing it before it has done its job. The first bombs are dropped from a great height before they know we're there. The second from a height where we can protect the Toscan. Then it turns around and we sort them out. Clear so far?”   
"Who actually gave you the command?", Lukas moaned.   
"Nobody. I just took it," Horner replied calmly, while the hangar doors slowly slid open. Alanis grinned broadly and started the turbines. Horner had just collected a lot of sympathy points.   
"Go ahead, we'll give you a little head start. Not that we're directly screwing up our element of surprise." She rolled out of the hangar and pulled the Toscan as high as possible after the start.   
"I activate the jammer. See you soon.” The stupid part about this thing was that it also hindered their own communication, but now they had to accept it.

She had to cross the marked area on the map several times before her scanners found the camp. Turning a wide curve, she briefly deactivated the jammer and transmitted the coordinates.   
"I'm going straight to the first drop, okay?"   
"Okay. No sign of the squadron yet. We meet east of the camp for the second round," Horner said concentrated.   
"Okay." She activated the jammer again and let the Toscan calculate when to start the drop.   
"All right..." she muttered to herself. Three... two... one... half of the loaded bombs were released and sailed towards the rebel camp, while Alanis turned away and switched off the jammer at some distance.   
"The sweethearts are flying."   
"Good. We had radar contact," Horner reported very briefly. The three arranged themselves in the triangle around Alanis and together they flew a wide arc.   
"Impact in three... two... one...", reported Alanis. She heard the explosions very quietly and saw a bright explosion mushroom.   
"Nice. That must _have been_ a camp," Grayson commented.   
"And here we go..." Horner mumbled before saying louder: "Get ready. Enemy at ten o'clock." He flew at the tip and didn't even seem to think about turning off, but headed for the camp for a second bomb drop. Alanis had the Toscan do its calculations and then suddenly they were under fire. The hits bloomed on a display and she let herself sink before she dropped almost all the remaining bombs.   
"What are you doing?" Horner asked angrily.   
"When they hit one of the bombs, we all die," Alanis replied, taking her place again. For flying in formation for the first time, she found herself surprisingly good.   
"Turn-off." Together they swung to the right. Since Alanis could do nothing but fly, she checked her ads. The enemy squadron consisted of six planes who apparently knew exactly what they were doing - thanks to an intelligent AI.   
"Okay, Hamilton, time to turn."   
"Go- wait. Damn it!"   
"What is it?"   
"I'm afraid I have to get rid of my reserve."   
"What do you mean?" Horner wanted to know.   
"What? You didn't even throw everything off?" Lukas asked incredulously.   
"Part of the bombs didn't detonate," Alanis started, but Lukas hissed:   
"Do your job!”   
"Hey, hey, hey! Hamilton, go up and take care of it. Guys, we're taking the enemy apart."   
"Sure." Alanis growled angrily and rose as the three of them started to go for the enemy squadron.

In the end, it was a matter of a few minutes.   
"Mission accomplished", the computer voice suddenly came up and Alanis flinched. At the right edge of the control unit a big light blue button appeared - she pressed it and the simulation ended almost abruptly. To her surprise, she was a little unsteady on her feet as she climbed out of the simulator, but Horner was also strangely pale around the nose.   
"I think..." Grayson said pointedly in his direction, "we've discovered your destiny."   
"Hmm?” Horner made irritated. Grayson grinned.   
"We found our new commander."   
"Pff..." made Lukas disparaging, while Horner shook his head with a frown.   
"Bullshit."   
"Nanana... you'll see, you may lead our squadron." Grayson patted him heavily on the shoulder.   
"Well done." Clooney came out of the control corner with his headset and nodded to them. "Would you like to see your review? Of course, it's not included in the general score, it's just for the sake of overview."   
"Of course," Lukas replied.   
"Sir, what is the exact composition of the rating?" Alanis wanted to know, because nobody had explained that to them before. Clooney looked at them seriously.   
"Basically, from the aviation performance. The flight level - in this case beginner - as well as a further degree of difficulty - here the coincidence of the flown machine - is also taken into account. If a mission is flown, things like time and resource consumption are added; if it is a group mission, the general communication, hierarchy and the solving approach are taken into account." Alanis nodded curtly as Clooney was still looking at her.   
"A total of one hundred points can be achieved per flight." Then he frowned briefly and answered a question that Alanis could not hear.   
"No. If there's any doubt or criticism about the automatic score, we'll take a look and correct the points if necessary." Another question seemed to follow.   
"Yes, there can be extra points, even beyond the hundred. But they are achieved through additional mission goals, tight time limits or the like." He touched something on his tablet and four lines appeared on the large scoreboard of the first year.   
Horner had reached ninety-one points, Grayson eighty-nine, Alanis eighty-eight, and Lukas eighty.   
"Is it good?" Grayson asked hesitantly.   
"Yes," came the short answer. "But I think that you," he looked at them all four, "will soon settle your average a little further up." Horner got a slightly longer look. "A little much further up." He blushed and Alanis smiled. As class president and vigilante, he had to thaw a bit, but as pilot and squadron leader he had already warmed up and suddenly she hoped to be able to fly a lot more missions with him.

\---

Snowflakes swirled around Matt and stabbed him in the face. When the door of the greenhouse slammed behind him, he sighed in relief. Hamilton peered a little irritated around the corner and then began to grin.   
"Hey Commander..."   
Matt made a face.   
"That's what I call a steep career. From class president to squadron leader in just a few hours." She already held a basket in her hand and leaned against the partition wall while Matt took off his jacket.   
"Whereby you haven't really shone as a class president yet. Was perhaps an emergency promotion..." The anger he had felt earlier came up again, yet he tried to keep a calm tone.   
"You don't make it easy for me, huh?”   
"I warned you.” She shrugged. "Come on, let out your frustration." Prompted, she nodded to him, her grin had disappeared.   
"You provoke. How long do you think it will take for Thomas to make his threat come true?” He also grabbed a basket and together they went to work. Again- or still?- beans; he slowly lost his appetite.   
"Do you really think I'd provoke him like that if I couldn't protect myself?" In her eyes was a flash.   
"You want him to do something, don't you?" A bad feeling crept into Matt's stomach.   
"Maybe I can make him leave, hmm?"   
Unbelieving Matt shook his head.   
"Listen, this is just the beginning. Maybe bullying is already terribly cruel for you, but guys like Wilmod or Withmer have more to offer," she started, but he interrupted her:   
"I'm aware of that. But you're not only provoking Wilmod, you're also making a fool of me." He looked at her angrily. A narrow smile scurried over her face.   
"That's exactly the plan." With her head lowered, she continued to pick the beans.   
"And how exactly does this work? Only if your genius allows me to know about it," he sarcastically returned. The smile turned into a smirk.   
"Camp formation. There are Wilmod and his bandits, you and your knights and then the common people. Well and then the mysterious tower where nobody knows if there is a princess or a beast in it."   
Matt blinked at her irritated. "You are unbelievable."   
"I know." She threw a handful of beans into her basket. "I must convince the knight and the people it's a princess, while the bandits must believe it's a dragon guarding a treasure. Because then they charge to attack and the knight defeats them."   
"You read too many fairy tales in your childhood."   
Surprisingly she laughed up. "Well possible. But believe me, I'm not a princess."   
"Then why should I protect you?"   
"Who says you should?" Asking, she raised a brow.   
"Well, didn't you say the knight should kill the bandits?"   
"Yeah, but does that make you _my_ knight?" Blushing, Matt lowered his gaze. Somehow this conversation went very differently than he had expected. He swallowed and searched for words.   
"Don't you want a personal knight?" Her answer was so long in coming that he finally looked up. She smiled mischievously.   
"Do what you want, but make sure the others don't get the wrong idea. I'm satisfied if I can bang a few lines around your ears." She paused for a moment. "And when we can fly together. I think I could like that." He got warm cheeks again and for a while they worked silently side by side.

Almost at the same time they went ahead to put down the full baskets and take new ones, but Matt took the time to have a sip at the tap before he went back. Surprised, he found Hamilton standing at the window, one hand on the glass, looking out. The greenhouses were coated so that daylight came in from outside, but no artificial light from inside to outside. In other words: nobody could look in, but from inside you had a clear view. And Hamilton's gaze was almost lost in wonder as she looked at the now evenly snowed-in terrain. There wasn't much space between the rows of plants and so Matt stood more behind her than next to her when he joined her.   
"Do you see snow for the first time?" he wanted to know quietly.   
"Yes..." Her answer was little more than a breath. "At least in real. At home it's much too warm for that even in winter," she added. "Does it snow at your place?"   
"Yes, even quite a lot.” He thought of the snow-covered hills outside his hometown, where the snow was so high that sledding became impossible rather quickly.   
"I once saw microscopic pictures of snowflakes," she said dreamily. "They're so beautiful... really perfect." Before he could say something, he would regret afterwards, she pitifully said:   
"It really looks wonderful out there... but it's so terribly cold."   
"Freezing owl." He said it with much less mockery than intended, but with a tender undertone. When he realized this, he turned red again, but Hamilton grabbed his hand and pressed it briefly. Then she took a glance over her shoulder.   
"We should move on."   
He nodded.

All the rest of the time they worked in a peaceful silence, although Matt actually wanted to congratulate her for her birthday - keeping the class book also had its advantages. When they were standing thickly dressed in the greenhouse door, she hesitated.   
"It's a nice feeling to step into the untouched first snow of the season," Matt said and nudged her. "Come on." Slowly she went out, the snow crunched quietly under her boots.   
"That feels very different than I thought," she said.   
"Oh yeah?" Matt closed the door behind him and raised his hand to greet George as he pulled a snowplow out of the shed a little further.   
"Yes. I thought it was more like... like sand."   
"No, not really. You should hurry, I bet the others are already fighting the first snowball fights. And the temptation to soap you up could be too appealing to resist," he then warned.   
"What is soaping up?" With a frown she turned to him.   
"Rub someone with snow. Everywhere where none belongs."   
"Oh." She made a face.   
"Well..." He shrugged and then paused, embarrassed. "Um... what I wanted to say... Happy birthday." Surprised she looked at him, then she smiled.   
"Thank you." After a moment she nodded and hurried away, while Matt had to take a deep breath before he slowly followed her. As he had thought, there were smaller groups everywhere bombarding each other with snowballs. He saw Hamilton skillfully dodging two before a third hit her from behind, but she apparently took his warning seriously, ignoring the jeering and hurrying on until she reached the side aisle of the east wing. There was a group of smokers, including Chris and Damien.   
"Hey," it waved over to Matt. "Can't you even have a smoke in peace here?" A snowball had burst at the wall. The recruits had been forbidden so many things that they were at least allowed to keep their cigarettes, which Matt could understand, although he didn't find it very pleasant to have to wade through a cloud of smoke to get into the house.


	11. Red ears, red bra

Hamilton didn't smile as dreamy as she did in the greenhouse, but she seemed a lot more relaxed than usual. When Matt caught her gaze, he wished they were somewhere else- at another flying academy or university, or anywhere else he could have greeted her freely without being lynched.   
"Are you even listening to me?" He got a rib shot from Alex.   
"Hmm? What?"   
"Apparently not," Zachary remarked dryly. Alex sighed.   
"We talked about which machines the other three might get."   
"Ohohoh!", Dylan mumbled enthusiastically with a full mouth. "I'd like to be a Banshee."   
"Banshee? You? Never." Matt shook his head. Alex grinned.   
"To put it in Hamilton's words: you get shot down even in camouflage mode after five minutes." Matt rolled his eyes, while Dylan pulled a pout and Chris laughed quietly.   
"But they're so _cool_..."   
"It doesn't matter if they're cool or not, it matters if you're right for each other. And you are much too jittery for a spy," Matt said critically.   
"That's exactly what Alex is trying to tell him," Zachary threw in. Matt looked at him frowning. From a flight technical point of view, their class brain on duty was a disaster, although he had already thought so, because Zachary emphasized again and again that he preferred to become an engineer, and on the other hand his first three flying hours had ended with a magnificent crash-landing.   
"If anyone here becomes a banshee, it's Zachary. He's much more careful."   
"You really take this seriously, don't you?" Chris wanted to know.   
"What do you mean?”   
"The gibberish of becoming one with your machine and all..." Therefore, he got several gloomy looks from all sides. "Okay, okay, I get it." Apologizing, he raised his hands. "And what am I going to be?"   
Matt shrugged. "Maybe a Viking or an Avenger. Or simply a Hellhound."   
"And what about me now?" Dylan complained.   
"You?” Matt had to smile and he thanked Alex silently for talking to him about his father. "If you don't become a renegade, I don't know what to say."   
"Ha!”, Dylan made triumphantly. "Did you hear Chris? A renegade! Ha! Ha! Ha!”   
"Oh boy..." Alex sighed quietly.   
"What? Jealous because soon you won't be the only one anymore?" Matt teased. Now Alex raised a brow.   
"Why are you in such a good mood all of a sudden?”   
Matt grinned and leaned back. "Am I not allowed to?" He looked past Chris to the girls' table where Hamilton and Diering just got up.   
"Yes, of course... But that's so rare."   
"So what? Leave me be."

\---

Even though they had a vacation, Matt couldn't sleep. Alex and Dylan had talked until late into the night about Renegades, after Dylan had actually been assigned to the Renegade, and when Matt had fallen asleep at some point, he had gone from one weird dream to the next, until he finally gave up and allowed himself a hot shower shortly after six. He then went to the library to continue working on the homework mountain they had been given. He really liked the library. In the entrance area there were several showcases in which there were aircraft models from several centuries. Above them stood an old-fashioned signpost, the arms of which showed the various thematic areas. Matt had his favorite place under one of the high windows, but the violent rattling of plastic and a very frustrated sounding growl made him pause before turning left. He hadn't even realized that there was a small work table nearby, but Hamilton was sitting there, burying her face in her hands, with a calculator on her desk.   
"Can I help you?" he asked carefully.   
"You can leave," was the aggressive answer.   
"Hey, there's no one else here, so you can let me help you." Without noticing her dark stare, he sat next to her. "Show me." It was terribly stupid, but being able to do something better than her diminished her somewhat intimidating charisma; especially because she now looked almost miserably at her folder.   
"I am simply not good with numbers," she murmured embarrassedly.   
"It's not that bad. To be honest, who needs something like that?" Matt replied encouragingly, grabbed one of her pens and nodded to her.

For little more than an hour they sat together on their math and physics exercises until they both looked up at the same time because the heavy library door opened. And then Matt also understood why she had chosen this place: between the shelves you could see the showcases that reflected the door through which Dylan just came. He got up in a hurry, grabbed his bag and disappeared between the shelves. Only at his favorite place did he drop himself and unpacked his things calmly.   
"You're not as good as a liar as you think," Dylan greeted him and sat across from him.   
"Hmm?"   
"You left over an hour ago. First. Second, Hamilton is sitting over there."   
"So what?" Matt's mouth got dry. Dylan grinned happily at him.   
"I can tell by the tip of your nose that you have a crush on her."   
"I haven’t!"   
"Oh yes!”   
"What makes you think so?" Matt's face had gotten uncomfortably warm and Dylan's giggling didn't make it any better.   
"You see, I'm right. You're as red as a tomato." Annoyingly Matt rummaged in his pocket for his pencil case. "I'd rather save you the trouble of how I got it. It's just a fact. And you should be careful, otherwise someone will notice soon and tell the Council about it with pleasure." Dylan was much more serious than usual, and that alone was enough for Matt to look at him.   
"I have no crush."   
"Of course not.” Dylan's tone was pure sarcasm. "That's why you always sit with your back to her in the dining hall." After a stern look he sighed. "I keep it to myself, okay? But still: don't let your eyes stick on her all the time."   
"I..." Matt was a little taken by surprise, but Dylan now began to unpack his stuff for his part. But that wasn't the end of the story.   
"So... what's going on in the greenhouse?"   
"What... what is there supposed to go on?"   
"Well, after the carrot thing..." Dylan shrugged and the mischievous grin crept back onto his face.   
"Dylan..."   
"Oh, come on. Not even a little smooching?"   
"Dylan!"   
"Yeah, yeah... you don’t have a crush. And what about her? More hot carrot moves?"   
"Shut up."   
"Do you have any zucchini?"   
"May I please kill you?"   
"No? Too bad, the image is completely- hey!" Matt raised his book to go after Dylan and he flinched back. "I'm just kidding!"   
"Your jokes are inappropriate," Matt growled.   
"Oh, when sweet little Dylan Foster fantasizes about zucchini, it's actually quite cute," Hamilton interfered and stepped out behind a shelf against which she leaned with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Under her mocking smile, Dylan turned red. Matt lowered the book and hoped she hadn't heard everything.   
"But don't you think zucchini are a little big for a start?" She appraised Dylan, whose mouth opened but produced no sound.   
"Well, I mean, I have no idea, I don't like zucchini." Even Matt knew it wasn't really about vegetables.   
"They're so tasteless... and they get wobbly so fast."   
"Uh...", Dylan made a little helpless.   
"I would bet carrots are a bit more beginner-friendly, aren't they?" Her eyes turned to Matt, who felt hot and cold at the same time.   
"Uh..."   
Then the expression on her face became frosty. "Cook your vegetable soup somewhere else. You're annoying." She turned around and rushed off. Both Matt and Dylan stared after her paralyzed.   
"Dude... ", Dylan found his tongue again, "I don't want to switch places with you."   
"What do you mean?" Matt asked a little beside the track.   
"With her you lost if she gets into bed with you."

\---

Veronica sang as so often completely crookedly under the shower and did not let Lisa's annoyed protest stop her.   
"At some point the day will come when Lisa will stuff the shampoo bottle down her throat," Alanis predicted.   
"But she'd have to take off Veronica's microphone first, wouldn't she?" Steph was devoted to filing her nails and didn't look up.   
"If she doesn't, I will," Scarlett mumbled and brushed her hair. Meanwhile, Alanis was busy applying cream; in the unfamiliar cold weather her skin had become incredibly dry.   
"I'll back you up," she said and nodded to Scarlett over the mirror. She nodded back.   
"Something else would have surprised me." They smiled at each other thievishly.   
"It would be an improvement if she wouldn't always sing the same three songs," Steph said with a sigh.   
"Be happy that there are only three, and not the whole album", Alanis gave back.   
"Don't give her any stupid ideas," Scarlett warned.   
"I can _just_ keep it to myself." It was one of those rare moments when they were actually all relaxed.   
No stress, no pressure, no hectic, no guys, no tears.   
They were just girls who went to school together. After braiding her hair, Alanis dressed. Although they were allowed to wear their civilian clothes during the holidays, at least she decided to wear her uniform blouse.   
"Honey - we can see your bra," Scarlett remarked critically.   
"I know. And?” Alanis buttoned up the blouse unaffected.   
"It's New Year's Eve, people are wearing red underwear," Steph said, slipping into a bright red panty as well.   
"For all I care. But not under a white blouse!”   
Steph shrugged a little helpless while Alanis smiled.   
"They could have made the blouses out of a little less translucent fabric."   
"You are enjoying this a little too much for my taste," Scarlett said with a frown. "Where is your I-show-them-all attitude?"   
Alanis opened her mouth, but Scarlett gently shook her head.   
"You want to please someone, right?"   
"No. I just don't hide."   
"Tell it to my demented great-grandmother." Scarlett turned away.   
"If they want to believe we're all bitches, they'll do it anyway. I can defend myself verbally and non-verbally enough or ignore these idiots. But I won't be told what underwear to wear."   
Scarlett glanced at her gloomily, but Alanis just shrugged.   
"I'm in the library."

Alanis scribbled on her political exercises when Horner appeared between the shelves. He smiled shyly at her as she nodded to him. A soft murmur of voices was heard in the background, so he would hardly sit with her. Suddenly he seemed embarrassed, but then he approached her.   
"One can see your underwear," he muttered quietly.   
"Oh really?" She smiled up at him. He wore dark blue jeans and a light grey sweater and looked much more relaxed than usual.   
"Um... And your blouse isn't buttoned properly...", he then added. A little right Scarlett actually was; there were consciously two buttons more open than allowed, and so Horner probably had a nice view. His cheeks took on the color of her bra.   
"It's New Year's Eve. So, you wear red underwear."   
"Oh yeah?"   
She nodded. "That brings happiness, love and money in the new year."   
"Ah..."   
"Let me guess. Your underpants are as white as your record."   
"They're not," he returned in a defensive tone that suggested the opposite. With a mocking smile she stretched out her hand to him.   
"May I have a look?"   
"What? No!” Hastily he took a step back.   
"White," she said, twitching her eyebrow meaningful. He shook his head and - if possible - blushed even more. After a short hesitation he pulled the sweater up a bit and fished the edge of his underpants out of the waistband.   
"That's almost as disappointing as white," she commented on the aviator green.   
"Do I have to justify the color of my underpants to you now?"   
She grinned at him broadly. "If you may criticize my blouse..."   
"Your blouse is official outerwear. And actually, half open." Apparently, he had regained some of his self-confidence.   
"Apparently, we have a different view about _half open_. But if it calms you down..." She buttoned up her blouse and pulled a sweater out of her bag.   
"That has nothing to do with it... If someone like Thomas or Damien-"   
"Do you think they'd see that?" When she put her head through the sweater, he looked at her irritated.   
"They have eyes in their heads, you know?"   
"Oh, I mean something else." He understood and turned bright red again.   
"You're provoking me again," he complained half-heartedly.   
"Because it's just so much fun." She placed her chin in her hand and smiled up at him. "And you won't believe how cute you are when you blush."   
He took a hissing breath, but then he just turned on his heel and stormed away while Alanis giggled.


	12. Let's fly together

Since two weeks they were allowed to fly simulations on their own; since two weeks Alanis did exactly this for at least half an hour every day. But compared to the guided flights in class, it was suddenly terribly boring and somehow frustrating. Veronica and Steph came into the room when Alanis was about to persuade herself to do homework instead of going to the simulators.   
"Did you look at the scoreboard earlier?" Veronica asked in her gossip-and-chitchat tone.   
"No, why?"   
"They included the results of the latest theoretical tests."   
"And?"   
"Together with Horner, you're the best of our year!" Veronica squeaked.   
"I have no idea how you did it," Steph remarked amusedly. "The way you always whine about your math and physics homework..."   
"Neither do I," Alanis admitted in surprise. She couldn't deny that she learned a lot and many things were as easy for her as the ABC, but on a level with Horner...? The guy _always_ had an answer, _always_ had something constructive to say, and he often sat in the library and explained the class topic to a small group again. It wasn’t the points from her flying lessons alone that raised her score so much. Or did they? Under Veronica's enthusiastic gaze she was completely embarrassed.   
"You show them that we can be just as good as they can be."   
"Always go slow with the young horses. That's just the first half of the year."   
"And it certainly draws lots of envy and jealousy towards you," Steph added almost anxiously. In Alanis' eyes, it was a shame that such a pretty and cheerful girl turned herself into a grey mouse so as not to attract attention.   
"I'll have to live with it." She shrugged. "I will certainly not reduce my performance just to avoid the competition."   
"No, probably not," Steph murmured and dropped onto her bed.   
"Why should you?" As always, Veronica didn't seem to fully understand the seriousness of the situation. But before Alanis could find herself in a frustrating discussion with her, she got up.   
"I'm going to fly a little."

But after taking a look at the scoreboard, she came up with a completely different idea and went back to the library. There, as expected, Horner sat at a large table and discussed a weather map with some others. Grayson was the first to notice her and raised a brow asking.   
"Hamilton..."   
She just nodded to him, while the other heads more or less hastily jerked up.   
"Horner... when was the last time you looked at the scoreboard?" she wanted to know and put her head a little crooked.   
"This morning, why?"   
"Because we're tied."   
"No way!" it slipped him. Unimpressed, she shrugged.   
"Then just keep playing the arrogant asshole. I go for a flight... although I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to come with me. So amongst experts..." She put on her mocking smile and immediately saw it worked. Horner seemed to squirm inwardly, but then Foster surprisingly winked at her.   
"Come on, Matt, as a Hellhound you can easily handle a Banshee."   
"One round is not enough to change the overall score," Horner returned, saying exactly what Alanis wanted to hear.   
"Who says it has to be just one round? The time for training is still long." Around him the others began to grin.   
"All right...", he finally said with a slight uneasiness.

"You're doing this on purpose," he muttered to her as they walked across the frosty terrain.   
"Yeah. And? Don't tell me now that you don't want to fly with me."   
"... I do", he mumbled even quieter than before.   
"But?”   
"It seems a bit strange, don't you think?"   
"I'll tell you again if it hasn't arrived to you yet. Our quarrels, our little verbal power games, our flying competition... it's all just a show, okay?" She looked at him thinking about her last fight in the classroom because of some formalities.   
"So I have to get my eyes scratched out by you on a regular basis, so that you-"   
"- kiss my wounds afterwards?" she finished his sentence. He certainly didn't want to say that, because he blushed and preferred to hurry to open the door to the simulation building. Silently they put their things in the lockers and then went to the simulators.   
"So... what do you have in mind?" he asked then and finally looked at her again.   
"For now, maybe a little free flight. I'd like to know more about who's got my back," she replied and he nodded.   
"All right." He inserted his card into the simulator and raised his hand to the control panel as she grabbed him by the arm.   
"Remember, this is all being recorded."   
With his brow raised, he looked up. " _You're_ telling _me_ right now?"   
She smiled. "I can say as much as I want. But you're a shining knight messing with a dragon princess."   
"Dragon princess, yeah? Well, then show me how much fire your banshee dragon can spit."   
"Too happy to do so."

\---

Matt didn't have much of an idea of what a free flight simulation with Hamilton meant. But for sure he hadn't expected _this_.   
"Catch me," she teased him as soon as he was in the air and buzzed away.   
"That's unfair!”   
"Why? Do you think only Renegades shoot down enemy spies?"   
"You... What the heck, you're a banshee! How is a Hellhound supposed to catch you?”   
"With claws and teeth?" she asked back amused.   
"Shall I shoot you down or what?"   
"Just try it." Her quiet laughter gave Matt goose bumps. "But don't complain if I shoot back." He didn't need to remind her that Hellhounds not only had more firepower, but were also better armored.   
"Only if you don't use your camouflage mode."   
"I can live with that."   
He suppressed a sigh. His air combat systems were not as strong as his ground weapons, which in turn meant that he had to take advantage of the situation when she was under him. Which, with her agile capabilities, should not be the greatest of his problems.

They did not finish the simulation until Matt ran out of fuel and both machines were just flying scrap heaps. He couldn't tell which of them had cursed more, but he couldn't remember the last time he had such fun flying. Hamilton had just winked at him afterwards and had disappeared and now she was sitting calmly at dinner.   
"And who won your flight round?" Dylan asked curiously and sawed at his cutlet.   
"A draw," Matt replied before hungrily shoving the next forkful into his mouth.   
"And who decided that?" Chris wanted to know, frowning.   
"I suppose the score," Zachary remarked, as always, precociously.   
"Ninety-eight, ninety-eight."   
"Not bad." Alex grinned.   
" _Not bad?_ That was my best flight yet."   
"And why did you stop?" Dylan continued.   
"No more fuel," Matt replied into his glass.   
"Any highlights you might want to tell us about?" Alex casually added.   
"Any nice remarks from Hamilton perhaps?" Dylan clarified in innocent tone.   
"Highlights? Hmm. I wasn't aware how long it might take for the machine to fall apart under your ass."   
"What, did she shoot you?" Chris looked like he couldn't believe it.   
"Her banshee didn't look any better either." Matt shrugged. "And I think I learned a lot of new curse-words."   
"Well, probably wasn't that difficult." Alex's smile turned into a grin when Matt elbowed him.   
"Honestly, I don't want to face Hamilton in a real fight."   
"But banshees aren't meant superficially for combat," Zachary interjected. He sounded a little uncomfortable.   
"Depends on what you make out of it," said Alex shrugging. "And what your superiors demand of you." That obviously didn't make it any better for Zachary.   
"Come on, you won't have just cursed all the time," Dylan redirected the subject.   
"She provoked me." Matt indicated a shrug.   
"In which way?" Alex went after it.   
"In all possible ways. In a group mission she would have got a bunch of negative points for her communication." A grin crept into the faces of Dylan and Alex.   
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"   
"I think so."   
"What do you think?" Zachary asked irritated. Matt could almost think of it.   
"Next time there will be spectators.” Bingo.   
"Is it really necessary?"   
"Why not? The way you let others pull everything out of your nose, is frustrating. And now that I know how you can argue with each other, I'd love to see that when you're in the air," Dylan replied with a sweet smile. Alex enthusiastically slapped him on the shoulder.   
"I know what you mean.”

\---

"...why didn't you talk them out of it? Isn't it enough that- oh." Hamilton broke off in the middle of the sentence. Matt followed her gaze and turned pale. Besides Alex and Dylan, other recruits had arrived, none of whom looked as if they wanted to fly themselves.   
"Are you serious?" He had to make an effort not to snap at Dylan, who was happily approaching him.   
"Hey, the others asked how your simulation went. I mean, come on, that's better than a stupid weather map." He was right about it, but between _the simulation is recorded_ and _there are active viewers_ there was a big difference. A little helpless, he took a look over his shoulder, but Hamilton put on a smile.   
"Whatever..."   
"That's not fair."   
"Life is hard and unfair. Get used to it."   
Matt's mood sank. When they went to the simulators, he murmured to her:   
"Keep your tongue in check."   
"Why? If someone else is laughing, it's even more fun." She winked at him. "Don't take it so seriously. Tomorrow it's club-time again and you can yell at me as much as you want." He made a face, but activated the simulator for a collaborative free flight. Even before he took off, the radio cracked.   
"So, what does it look like? Do we break the hundred?"   
"If you give it your best..." he gave back and pulled the Hellhound into the air.   
"Why me?"   
"Well, your choice of words makes me wonder."   
"Communication is only evaluated in group missions. And this isn't one."   
"But you should get used to it."   
"You ruin all my fun." She sulked.   
"This isn't supposed to be fun, it's supposed to be preparation for - hey!" Suddenly she had disappeared from the radar and seconds later he was shot at from behind. He took a sharp turn and she reappeared on the radar.   
"Now I'm in a bad mood. And you may guess three times on whom I'll drop it." She sounded sadistic rather than in a bad mood, but he didn't have time to think about her tone; he was busy not getting shot down. Women were generally said to become obnoxious when they had their monthlies - if that was the case now, this flight would be anything but pleasant. Hamilton chased him to the limit, taking full advantage of her camouflage mode and making him sweat profusely.   
"Damn it, it's not a duel!"   
"Who said this was going to be a duel?" she replied and disappeared from the radar again. But this time it was much longer than usual.   
"Um... Hamilton?" She didn't answer, but the Hellhound suddenly sank and several systems sounded an alarm. "What the hell...?" The radar beeped. She was... above him?   
"I've always wanted to ride a hellhound."   
"Hamilton!” Matt turned bright red at her tone. The Banshee had landed on the Hellhound and pushed him down. He cursed violently and then growled: "Ghost-beings shouldn't be so heavy."   
"Do you call me fat?" she bitched back.   
"Who started it?" he asked poisonously.   
"Oooh, you're definitely not a hellhound, you don't have the guts for it. No claws, no teeth..." If she didn't crash him directly, she'd at least force him to land.   
"And neither are you a banshee. _Transparent_ is something else." Jerkily he went into a nosedive, rolled to the side and tried to pull himself up again. She shot at him, but since he almost lost control of the Hellhound, he didn't care much. When he caught himself again, she had disappeared.   
"Tame pooch!" Fire from the side.   
"Mangy cur!" Fire from behind. Matt turned the Hellhound on his back.   
"Flea carpet!" Fire from above - but this time he shot back with his ground weapons.   
"Chubby fairy!"   
She gave a very girlish offended squeak before starting again to push him down. But he had expected it and so he hastily turned around again. Perhaps a little too hastily, because his wing touched her and they both got into a spin.   
"Damn," she hissed.   
"What?" he asked with concentration.   
"Rotor down. Keep still”, it came back curtly.   
"Keep still? _Keep still_?” He made an uncontrolled lateral turn.   
"Fly straight around!"    
"Can't you hear? I'm laughing too much to use the right skills!"   
"Yes, competence would be helpful now..." As they snapped at each other, Matt regained control of the Hellhound and was about to take a deep breath as he slumped again.   
"What...?"   
"Emergency landing."   
"You can't just land on a Hellhound!"   
"I mean you! Down, but fast. You've damaged my left rotor and I'm sure I can't get down safely with it."   
"Wait, you want me to land with a banshee on my back?" Matt's voice almost flipped over.   
"You should be able to do so." Hamilton sounded amazingly calm.   
"Hey, I may have a lot of flying hours, but I'm still... oh, forget it." Mentally he waved off. To discuss with her got to nothing.   
"Come on, bow-wow, aim for the runway."   
"I'm not a goddamn bow-wow!" He was almost bursting at the seams with tension, but he had no choice but to fly back to the airfield.

The landing was a nightmare - quite as he had feared. Almost immediately a wheel burst and the running gear broke away. By the sound of screaming metal half deaf and shaken by the swaying slide, Matt sent a prayer of thanks to the powers that be for this was only a simulation. When the Hellhound finally came to a standstill, he muttered:   
"I don't think I'll ever fly with you again."   
And Hamilton laughed. It took him quite a long moment to collect himself, and when he finally climbed out of the simulator, she was already standing in front of it, grinning broadly.   
"Well, what did I tell you?"   
He followed her implied nod and could only shake his head over the hundred points.   
"Never do that again..." he murmured exhaustedly.   
"Nah, you only do that once..." She winked at him and left without another word. In the control corner Matt saw the others discussing with each other in bright enthusiasm.   
"Hey..." he said slowly and was surrounded by a cacophony of congratulations before Dylan and Alex complimented the others away.   
"Guys... I'll never do that again."   
"What? Fly with Hamilton?" Dylan wanted to know. "Or let her fool you?"   
"Huh?"   
"She bullshitted you perfectly, my friend," Alex said gently and patted Matt comradely on the shoulder.   
"What's that supposed to mean?”   
"No broken rotor. She just did it for fun."   
"But..."   
"The rotor had only a brief malfunction. Everything else was just to give us a good show," Dylan explained and shrugged with a grin.   
"When I get my hands on Hamilton..." Matt growled, but Alex held him by the shoulder.   
"Nanana... You have your hundred points. And now we're going to dinner and then you sleep over it for a night and then you can kick her in the ass tomorrow. Simulated, of course." Matt looked up at him gloomily.   
"I think she was hit by the chubby fairy," Dylan threw in.   
"Which woman likes remarks about her weight?" Alex replied.   
"I'm just saying, you have a little weak spot."   
"Little weak spot? Hamilton doesn't have little weaknesses," Matt mumbled in between, but Alex and Dylan didn't listen to him at all, but eagerly began to discuss sensitive points of the oh so delicate female soul.

\---

Though Horner had explained his general and personal reasons for frustration very eloquently in the greenhouse, he was still in a bad mood when she entered the classroom the next morning. Not only was it written in his face, he also grumbled at her:   
"Your collar is wrong." Next to him Grayson raised a brow half questioning, half amused, while Alanis rolled her eyes. She refused to answer and wanted to go to her place when behind her suddenly instructor Clooney said:   
"Horner, Hamilton, just a word." With a sudden pounding heart, she stepped out into the hall again; behind her, Horner leaned the door. She was expecting a lecture and Clooney got straight to the point:   
"Because of your evaluation I looked over your flight." Severe he glanced at them both. "Even if you're free how to use your simulation time, please try to be moderate."   
"I'm sorry, sir," Alanis murmured, hoping it seemed contrite enough.   
"You don't have to apologize. Except maybe to Horner for your choice of words." She blushed and lowered her gaze. "But there are four second year recruits in the infirmary who wanted to mimic your little stunt."   
Her gaze twitched high, Horner had turned pale.   
"Not in real, of course. But it was enough." His serious expression became a little softer. "Your skills have admittedly surprised me a little. How long have you been flying?"   
Alanis bit her lip for a moment, but denying it wouldn't do much good, although she was reluctant to reveal the truth - she wouldn't make friends with it.   
"A friend of my family has an old simulator and I think the first time I sat in it was when I was nine or ten."   
Clooney lifted his eyebrows in amazement. "You taught yourself how to fly?"   
"No." Under his gaze she felt very uncomfortable. "Well... this friend is only a technician, he taught me the basics. Everything else was more... Trial and error..." She indicated a shrug. Suddenly Horner looked very unhappy.   
"And you?" Clooney turned to Horner.   
"In my boarding school it was allowed at sixteen to use the different simulators. I used the training programs for Renegades and Hellhounds."   
Clooney nodded slowly. "Keep up the good work." He wanted to leave when he paused. "I know you don't like each other, but please work on your communication."   
Alanis and Horner nodded with red cheeks, then Clooney disappeared into another classroom and Alanis began to grin. Horner looked rather miserable, though, but before she could ask him, the door opened and the rest of the class stood there in listening position. Foster grinned broadly and Alanis' passed away.   
"You know, Matt, the squadron leader's position is on shaky feet right now."   
"Banshees won't be squadron leaders," Lukas condescendingly threw in.   
"You're lucky," Alanis turned to Horner, but he didn't seem happy at all.   
"Well, Hamilton doesn't need to become a squadron leader to prove her skills," LeManet quietly remarked as she pushed past him to get to her seat. A little surprised, she looked at him and he lifted a corner of his mouth into a short smile as it sparkled in his light blue eyes.

Alanis took plenty of time when it rang for lunch several hours later, so much that Horner, who had to close the room as class president, sighed annoyed.   
"Come on..."   
She took her bag and went to him, who was standing at the teacher's table and drumming on it with the fingers.   
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Demandingly she stood up in front of him and on his face the feelings fought with each other.   
"I have no idea where you come from, or who you actually are, but I know that you're quite strange," he said quietly.   
"Say it loud and clear. I'm a freak."   
"Freak? No, I don't think so." He shook his head, but didn't let go of her gaze. "But where does a girl come from who doesn't know volleyball but can fly like a devil?"   
She just smiled. "If you're brave, you look at my file." He snorted.   
"Sure.” Then he added: "I want a degree with honors, and if I have to fly with you every day for enough points, then that's it."   
Her smile became wider. "I'm looking forward to it." Around his mouth formed a pinched line, which perhaps should hide a smile. She leaned forward another tiny bit.   
"If you're to lead my squadron, I want you to be the best." He opened his mouth and she tapped him on the chest. "And if I have to push you to your limits every day, then that's it." Under her hand his chest rose a little too fast, between their faces the math book would fit with difficulty. But the classroom was certainly not the right place to kiss him.   
"See you later," she whispered to him, brushing his chest in allusions and turned away.

\---

For some reason, Alanis found herself in a recruit crowd heading for the simulation building in the afternoon. As it seemed, they already had spectators again.   
"Hey, Matt!" Somewhere in front of her, Foster called on him and Horner slid past her a little rough, with something falling out of his pocket. She wanted to ignore it at first, but it was a neatly folded little piece of paper and so she picked it up. And as her curiosity triumphed a few steps further, she let herself fall back and looked at the note. Although it looked like it was scribbled hastily, the handwriting was clear and clean, but tiny and didn't come close to filling the note.   
_Don't think I would be really angry with you. It just makes me uncomfortable that you are the one who should be my biggest competition. I would rather fly with you to relax, not to score points._   
The ink at the beginning of the last sentence was darker, as if he had hesitated before writing on. With a suppressed smile, Alanis folded the piece of paper back together and put it in a trouser pocket. She found it incredibly sweet that he was so thoughtful and even wanted to share it with her as soon as possible. He couldn't hide the effect she had on him from her - but hopefully from everyone else.

Her smile turned into a sigh as she entered the building and started stuffing her things into a locker.   
"What are you flying today?" LeManet asked Horner.   
"I don't know." He turned to her.   
"Renegades?" she suggested and closed the locker. He made a face.   
"Whatever you say. No one should claim we would neglect our second machines," he replied in a hint of sarcasm. While the spectators in the control corner made themselves as comfortable as possible, Alanis and Horner went to the simulators.   
"Memo arrived," she mumbled to him and he nodded without looking at her. When they were in the air, Horner said after a big lap around the simulated area:   
"Show me what you got."   
"Well, I'll gladly comply with the request," she happily gave back and pulled sharply to the left to intercept him, but he dived away jerkily under her. He was incredibly good, but if he had only flown Hellhounds and Renegades from the beginning, she should not be surprised. When she said the thought, he snorted.   
"Well, when we all flew Renegades together, you only had eyes for Alex, otherwise you would have noticed." Did he hide a little jealousy behind his mocking tone? She laughed quietly.   
"But unlike you, Grayson also has a lot of fun flying a Renegade. I'm surprised you like two different types of machines like that."   
His answer took a long time. "You know, the others are kind of right when they say I would be a good squadron leader. I like to keep an overview and in a Renegade that's simply not possible." He looped backwards over her and continued: "I got used to the Hellhound and don't have to think about what I do when I fly. I can do other things instead. Giving orders, for example." He sounded much more confident than he actually was, but show was show. Acknowledging, Alanis smiled as she shot at him from a swerve and asked the obvious question:   
"And why are you flying a Renegade at all?"   
"Because my father was a Renegade pilot.”   
"Ah, you tried to follow his footsteps."   
"Mh," he said in a negative tone, "A friend once told me you have to leave your own marks in history." He approached her frontally and shot back as she dived down and did a backflip before turning sideways back on her stomach and chasing after him.   
"Seems to be a very wise friend," she replied, wondering who he was talking about. But now Horner sounded as if he was smiling:   
"Like most people, he has his bright moments.”   
She had to giggle and thought about how their conversation would seem to appeal to the others, while they kept peaceful silence. At the thought that the Council could somehow interfere in these flight sessions, she got a stomachache. This was another reason why she kept herself from asking further questions about his father, although she would have liked to know more about Horner and his motives.   
"Aren't there any sensational stunts today?" he ripped her out of her mind a little later.   
"Why? Do you miss the sweat of fear?" she mocked gently.   
"Tzz!”   
"Besides, you heard Clooney..."   
"Sure. But..." He paused and then said quietly, almost conspiratorially, "One hundred points."   
"You got me, didn't you?" she grinned and wondered what was going on in him. "Gimme what you got," she added and fired at a broadside opening up from all the cylinders.   
Spectators or not, but she enjoyed just being able to fly, and when they got out of the simulators half an hour later, at least a ninety-nine flashed. She nodded to Horner and then walked past her comrades to disappear; homework was still waiting in her room. As she closed her jacket, the others strolled away and LeManet nodded to her.   
"Interesting style of flying." He had that strange half-smile on his face again. Irritated, she looked after him and grabbed her scarf.   
"Um... Matt? You should see this," Foster said cautiously at that moment.   
"What is it? Dylan, the phones have to stay in the rooms," Horner replied annoyed.   
"Yes, I know, I just took it in a hurry earlier. But have a look." Foster sounded insecure and Alanis looked up. Grayson and Horner took a look at Foster's phone.   
"Oh," Grayson made unpleasantly surprised. Foster wiped the display.   
"Oh.", Horner made now, too. All three looked up and over to Alanis. At their glances a shiver ran down her spine.


	13. Veronica

"Why are they all looking at us like that?" Veronica asked quietly at dinner when the other recruits were almost all staring very obviously.  
"I'm not sure I want to know," Lisa said and Alanis registered her discomfort surprised.  
"Well, what's the big deal? This oh so great Council will have concocted something again.", Scarlett murmured in a bad mood.  
"From bullying the way is not far to psycho terror," Steph said surprisingly quietly. "And after that comes violence." Alanis raised a brow, but Lisa was quicker to answer:  
"Stop painting the devil on the wall, and be glad they don't do anything more than verbal attacks so far." Even before Alanis had expressed her suspicion, the mood fell. Veronica cried, Lisa and Scarlett poked darkly into their food and Steph crumbled her dessert without appetite. Alanis finished her meal and then walked away without a word.

She couldn't sleep, Scarlett rolled back and forth half the night, with the whole bed wobbling, and Veronica seemed to have nightmares and whined again and again. There was an apocalyptic mood at the breakfast table and Alanis was almost happy that the lessons started. Or should start, because suddenly the screen above the blackboard went out all by itself, the light switched off and the beamer under the ceiling came to life. The irritated murmur died when an image appeared from a bathroom - and Veronica, who sang completely wrong with foam mountains on her head and the shampoo bottle in her hand, as so often, and wiggled her ass.  
"Oh please no..." Alanis whispered almost tonelessly. Somebody seemed to know a bit about video editing, because the vocals got quieter and instead Alanis heard herself say:  
_"Notice anything?”  
"She sings even worse than usual?"_ Steph asked absent.  
_"No, she changed the disc,"_ Scarlett remarked with a sigh.  
_"About time, too."_ Alanis said with an audible smile.  
_"The way she tortured it in a continuous loop? Absolutely,"_ Scarlett agreed with her. There was a short break, then Alanis said:  
_"Or she got her music as Monday batches at half price. Then this disaster wouldn't be completely her fault."_ A particularly shrill tone came from Veronica to match the remark, and Alanis saw Foster flinch in front of her.  
_"You're mean,"_ Steph said, gently blaming.  
_"Al isn’t mean. She only packs the truth differently than you do,"_ Scarlett replied disparagingly.  
_"Yes, but..."_  
_"No_ **but** , _sweetheart. The truth hurts, but it leaves a clean cut."_ Veronica went on to the next song and started some very questionable dance steps, then the video stopped. As suddenly as it had started, the beamer went off again, the light switched on and the screen went up. Instructor Benedict burst into the slightly shocked dead silence, but he hadn't noticed what was going on and simply began classes.

Although Veronica didn't show up for lunch - which didn't surprise Alanis - the four of them sat in shameful silence and even when the afternoon classes were over, nobody said a word until Alanis got dressed to go to the garden club.  
"Don't you think we should maybe look for her?" Steph asked carefully.  
"If she wants to be alone, then she wants to be alone," Scarlett said, without lifting the gaze from her book, but sounded a little uncomfortable.  
"I was already in the washrooms. She's not there," Lisa remarked.  
"She'll show up again," Alanis said confidently. Since she didn't get an answer, she left.  
In the greenhouse, peas were waiting for her again. Horner was a little late and joined her, silent at first, then quietly asking:  
"Is O'Malley all right?”  
"I have no idea. She was neither at lunch nor in our room," Alanis replied just as quietly. She paused and looked up, Horner looked back. "Actually, we didn't even say anything really mean... but the whole academy saw and heard it, and... well, nobody can say we're not right..." She bit her lip. "But I am incredibly sorry. She's terribly naive and all these guys are scaring her a little bit... and now..."  
"If you spend every day the whole day together, it's normal. Do you think we wouldn't be teasing each other? You were really kind." he said and indicated a shrug.  
"I know what a real bitch fight can look like, thank you, but Veronica is a sensitive girl," Alanis replied and turned back to the peas. Horner was silent and for a while only their working sounds could be heard.  
"It’s rumored that there were disputes within the Council and that they are now bringing up the heavy guns," he said slowly when he came back from the front with a fresh basket. "Apparently they've chosen to start with the weakest."  
"Don't you normally cut the snake's head off before you slice it up?" Alanis wanted to know with a frown.  
"Would it have bothered you if it had been a video of you?" he asked back; he already seemed to know the answer. Through the pea tendrils they looked at each other and he blushed a little.  
"Well, but I know my reflection and am pleased with it. Whether short bikini or underwear is not a big difference and the step to completely naked is not far." She shrugged.  
"I'd love to have your self-confidence," he mumbled with red ears and lowered his gaze.  
"So what? You all take a shower together just the same."  
"Yes, but these are guys among themselves." A glimmer of light suddenly lay on his face and a moment later he handed her his phon.  
"We all got these pictures," he said quietly and Alanis got big eyes. Someone had gone to great lengths to cut the shots from the cameras - and through the different viewing angles there had to be several - into an erotic series of photos. There was enough naked skin to make you want more, but enough fabric to not be considered pornography. With a snort she gave him back the phon.  
"That's going to cause a lot of wet dreams for quite a while," she remarked dryly. His cheeks seemed to glow. "Do you like the pictures?" she went after.  
"I take it back with the chubby fairy," he mumbled barely audibly.  
"Well, at least."  
"Doesn't that bother you at all?" Doubtful he looked at her and she sighed softly.  
"You are almost as naive as Veronica... How many women do you think upload such pictures daily on social networks and deliberately play with their charms?”  
"But voluntarily it's something else."  
"I repeat myself: these are only pretty pictures; I can live with them." She thought of the glittering dance costumes in the Blue Tulip and smiled at him. "Don't worry about me."  
"But it's not right!”  
"Nobody said that either."  
He seemed to have a much bigger problem with it than was good for him.  
"Keep your opinion to yourself, otherwise you'll get into shooting range," she said quietly and he took a deep breath before slowly exhaling and shaking his head.  
"You're a far too pretty and, above all, too intelligent girl to be bothering with such idiots here."  
"Somebody has to show these idiots that _pretty_ and _intelligent_ don't exclude each other." Now he smiled, but it was almost sad. "And you have a heart far too good for that shit," she said and gave him a smile.  
"I'm afraid so, too."

~

The matter with the cameras had probably reached director Vance overnight, because at breakfast a short and direct, somehow disappointed speech sounded over the loudspeakers. The same one was lying heavily in Matt's stomach when he went back to his room to get his bag, even though there was no reason for it.  
"...hope we can wake up Veronica," he heard Diering say, who walked up the stairs with Hamilton.  
"Didn’t Lisa try to wake her earlier?" Hamilton asked.  
"Yes, but rather half-heartedly. I mean, she must have just reappeared sometime in the middle of the night." Matt wondered where O'Malley might have been hiding all day when she came back after curfew.  
"I don't understand why she didn't go to the infirmary. Sister Marjolaine would have let her sleep there," Hamilton said critically and Diering shrugged.  
"I have no idea, honestly."  
They reached the third floor where, as usual, there was a little confusion before class. Matt entered his room and sighed softly. Chris had a chaos of sheets lying on his bed and rummaged violently around in it, while Alex and Dylan were about to leave already. Matt practically didn't know O'Malley, he only met her while eating and in Hamilton's brief conversations, but it was obvious that she was the weakest member of the group- and the easiest to break. Would she even end the year? A little lost in thought, he checked the contents of his bag. In passing, he noticed Zachary burst into the room and cursed.  
"Matt, are you ready?" Dylan wanted to know.  
"Hmm?" Through the door which Zachary had left open behind him and in which Alex was now standing, a muffled scream resounded.  
"Huh?" Matt had already thrown his bag over his shoulder and stepped into the hallway. A bit further the door of the girl’s room flew open and a pale Grant stumbled out. She hastily pushed herself between the confused recruits.  
"You don't have to hurry, Scarlett! It won't help anymore!" Hamilton had half stepped into the hallway and called after Grant.  
_It won’t help anymore?_ For Matt it clicked, just like for many others around him, because the murmur changed. "Hamilton, what happened?" As if by magic, there was the self-confidence and strength to say and do something. Hamilton looked at him and plucked her mouth strangely discontented.  
"Veronica killed herself." The murmur died for a moment, then it started all over again in a sensationalistic way. Demonstratively, Matt took a look at the watch, then raised his voice:  
"The first lesson begins in five minutes. So everyone who has nothing to do with the matter should go to their classrooms." Although he didn't give much thought to it, as a newbie he didn't want to step on the feet of the examinees and give them instructions.  
"Grant and O'Malley's classmates, please inform their instructor of their whereabouts." His eyes fell on Willem. "Willem, go to Director Vance and tell him. Alex, tell Fraser we'll be late."  
" _We?_ " Alex raised a brow and Matt crossed his arms in front of his chest while the rest of the recruits complied.  
"Hamilton, Willem, me."  
"But-" Dylan started, but broke off as soon as he saw Matt's gaze. He went towards Hamilton.  
"Diering and Smith?"  
She nodded into the room.  
"Shall go to class as well."  
"Lisa, Steph?"  
"We can't just leave her alone!" Diering protested almost hysterically.  
"Alanis is right, it doesn't help anymore," Smith said gloomily and then she dragged a pale Diering behind her from the room.  
"Maybe you'd better go to the infirmary," Matt said gently to Diering, who looked at him as if she saw him for the first time.  
"He's right," Hamilton agreed with him in a soft tone as well. "You look as if you'll knock over at any moment."  
"I'll take her there," Smith said with a suppressed sigh and then Matt suddenly stood alone with Hamilton in the silent corridor.  
They looked at each other for a long moment, then she asked quietly:  
"Does it remind you of your best friend?"  
He made a face. "I'd like to say that was different, but in the end not everyone can stand the same stuff."  
She nodded thoughtfully and lowered her eyes.  
"How did O'Malley...?”  
Hamilton sniffed angrily. "Sleeping pills and alcohol. And before you ask: she took the pills regularly because she already had nightmares. She probably took the alcohol from the infirmary. At least that's what the bottle looks like."  
"The stuff is denatured. No normal person can get it down," Matt replied and almost shuddered at the thought, because a deeply buried memory of having to drink this stuff plucked at him.  
"If you're desperate enough, you're ready for almost anything," she gave back bitterly and looked at him crookedly. He couldn't think of anything useful, but he didn't need to say anything, because she added: "Not everyone grew up as sheltered as you did." Again, he asked himself where she might be coming from. Within the United Planet Council there was a broad spectrum of possibilities, because even on the shining main planet Valenzar there were dark shadows, Matt was aware of it.  
"Hamilton, Horner..." Director Vance turned around the corner, followed by Sister Marjolaine, who seemed to be slightly upset.  
"Are you sure she's dead?" she asked Hamilton, who just nodded. Marjolaine rushed right into the room, while Vance stopped outside and examined the two recruits.  
"Miss Hamilton, I want you and your comrades to come to me after afternoon classes today. Miss Grant and Miss Diering are both in the infirmary at the moment, but will be back on their feet by noon at the latest. Horner..."  
"...Sir...?" Matt swallowed hard.  
"I wish there were more recruits like you. And now off to class with you."  
"Yes, sir."  
"Sir, I need my bag..." Hamilton said slowly and Vance nodded. She scampered into the room and was back before Matt could decide whether to go ahead slowly or not. Together and in silence they left the west wing, only then she noticed:  
"Vance praised you, huh? And you look like you're totally done with the world."  
He sighed quietly. "I've been ordering examinees around... shouldn't my stomach be sick?"  
She giggled. "You call that ordering around? Oh please..."  
He sighed again. "It’s not as easy for me as it may look. And every time I use the authority voice - don't laugh! Alex baptized it that way! - it gives me an adrenaline-electric-shock and afterwards my head is totally muddy." But Hamilton's giggling was contagious and his mouth corners bent upwards.  
"I think I like Grayson," she said, forcing herself to look serious. Matt nodded. They looked at each other and went on in silence, Matt feeling the usual distance between them building up. When they arrived at the classroom, she knocked and opened the door, but Matt entered first. Even before he could open his mouth, MacKenzie said:  
"Sit down." He immediately complied and unpacked his things. But he couldn't concentrate a bit on the lessons. O'Malley killed herself and while Grant and Diering had a hysterical nervous breakdown, Hamilton remained completely calm. He had no idea how Smith handled it, but he couldn't get rid of the feeling that Hamilton had experienced someone committing suicide before. Well, and she hadn't had a rosy relationship with her roommate, but you don't sleep with a warm corpse in a room every week either. Without realizing it, he sank into a macabrely sarcastic spiral of thought that ended abruptly when MacKenzie addressed him.  
"I'm sorry?" he asked embarrassed and got warm cheeks.  
"I just told you to take notes," said MacKenzie, almost wrinkling his nose.  
"Of course, sir," Matt murmured and lowered his eyes to his folder.

~

One week later Scarlett and Steph were still deeply shocked. Even Lisa had seemed absent in a different way than usual. And Alanis wondered why the suicide of Veronica didn't touch her; she only suffered a little with Steph and Scarlett, because she had really taken them into her heart.  
"Has anyone seen my yellow folder?" Scarlett mumbled angrily and rummaged around in her bookcase.  
"No," Steph mumbled absently, staring at her phon.  
"No," Alanis also said, shrugging. "But I know you packed it up in the library yesterday."  
"Yes, but it's not in the bag."  
"Then I don't know either."  
Scarlett growled and went on digging.  
"Say, are you waiting for something? We have to go to class," Alanis said cautiously to Steph, who was staring at her phone as if she was trying to summon a new message.  
"It's St. Valentine's Day. What is she going to wait for?" Lisa remarked dryly and left the room after a brief look over her shoulder. Steph seemed to burst into tears at any moment.  
"Did you take into account the time difference?" Scarlett asked and triumphantly held her folder in her hand.  
"Yes. And Josh always writes punctually," Steph whispered. Across the room, Alanis and Scarlett glanced at each other.  
"Listen, sweetheart, maybe he has a surprise for you and waits until you have time. I mean, when was the last time you spoke on the phone?"  
Alanis kept out of it, for her St. Valentine's Day was nothing but commerce - after all, you didn't just love each other on special days. So she grabbed her bag and went to class.  
Her mood sank even further as she entered the classroom and a red rose lay on her desk for a second time. With a sinister expression she stopped in the front.  
"Horner, how about you do your job and remove this shit?" Horner, who stood at the end of the room and sorted some books with Evans, turned around with a frown.  
"Tell it to the Duty of Order." LeManet rolled his eyes, but stood up and went forward to her place. With the rose in his hand, he paused.  
"At least it's a pretty rose."  
"When I get my hands on the one, he farts with the scent of roses afterwards," she growled and received laughter. LeManet came up to her amused, waving the rose before he suddenly clasped it between his teeth and pulled Alanis into a whirling dance step. Perhaps for the first time in all these years, she mentally thanked Marge for her extensive dance training, because LeManet certainly wanted to embarrass her - and the Adelaard, a complicated couple dance, was the perfect choice. But despite her heavy bag she found her way into the figure after a short stumble and swung around. A tiny glance later she looked upside down at Wilmod while her hair touched his table. He raised a brow, but before he could say anything, Alanis stood up again. LeManet could have dropped her, even with her fingers clawed into his arm, but he took the rose out of his mouth and grinned.  
"Nice, but unnecessary," Alanis commented dryly, strutting past him.  
"A dance show in my bed would be nicer," Wilmod muttered audibly. Horner looked as if he had a stomachache, but she just sat down and unpacked her things.


	14. A first goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first year at the acadamy comes to an end...

The howling of a siren dragged Alanis out of her sleep. That wasn't the alarm that had already called them to a nightly roll call, but a warning siren - but probably just another kind of nightly wake-up call. The nights were still cold, so she hastily pulled a sweater over her long pajama and took the time to put on socks before slipping into her shoes. And since it had been raining all day, she threw on her jacket as she hurried out. Steph took an example from her and even put on a cap as she hurried behind Alanis.  
"What time is it?" she asked over the noise chaos.  
"Does it really matter?" Alanis asked back and hurried down the stairs. Many recruits had grabbed a sweater at most, but wore pajama shorts. Outside it was drizzling and Alanis shivered.  
"Class 3b here!"  
"Class 2d to me!" The siren howl sounded different outside, but she still had trouble finding Horner in the chaos.  
"Class 1a to me! Line up in rows! Class 1a!" Slowly the individual rows of recruits formed up and she recognized in the weak light of the way lighting coach Statson with a megaphone.  
"That was pathetic!", it sounded tinny through the night; the siren continued to howl in the background.  
"Do you think he says that every time?" Foster asked quietly and got a rib stab.  
"The following squadrons rush to the airfield..." Statson called up five names and from the classes the corresponding recruits broke away and hurried into the dark.  
"The following squadrons go no less quickly to the simulators..." He called up a few names again and Alanis dawned that this probably happened every year. Or at least every second one. The wind drove the cold drizzle sideways through the rows; she sniffed and shivered again.  
"The rest of the years two and three can now turn three laps around the house. Year one marches back to bed. Hurry up!" In keeping with the invitation, the siren fell silent and the neat rows disbanded completely.

~

In the gym it was incredibly damp, really humid, and when Alanis entered the hall, she had the feeling of running against a wall. The boys were all there already, only coach Statson was missing. There was quite a mess of equipment built up: Bars, uneven bars, a balance bar and various jumping equipment. Rings hung from the ceiling on long ropes and on one side wall several poles poked, on which her gaze was caught.  
"Well, now there is pole dancing on the timetable?" she asked with amusement into the group and all the heads turned to her.  
"Then we obviously have the right trainer," Withmer remarked and examined her thoroughly. With an amused snort she replied:  
"Who says that I can do that?"  
Someone - and it sounded quite like Foster - muttered:  
"Well, you can do everything...  at least felt."  
But Wilmod said: "Well, you could just give us a taste."  
"About what?" she wanted to know curiously and walked slowly towards the boys.  
"You threw the Pole Dance remark into the room."  
"So what?"  
"You usually climb them up," Evans remarked from the background.  
"But a half-naked woman dancing is a better sight." Withmer shrugged as Evans made a face.  
"Well, I think half-naked guys are prettier, but whatever..." Alanis said and smiled at Wilmod, who blushed a little.  
"But men dancing at the pole?" Kensington grimaced. "That's a gay number, right?"  
"Nope, why? Women want to have fun, too." Now Alanis shrugged. "There are even dance bars only for female visitors." She would have bet the monthly profit of the Blue Tulip on it and now Horner actually cared to speak:  
"The visit of such bars is forbidden to recruits."  
"It was before our time together, sweetheart." He was so bright red she almost got worried, but the others laughed.  
"Back to the point," Wilmod said surprisingly seriously.  
"Hmm?"  
"Would you give a private performance?"  
"Excuse me?" Irritated, she looked at him.  
"Well... just to one of us..." He winked at her with a smile.  
"Oh, and you're the one or what?" Irving asked discontentedly.  
"We can draw lots for it," Withmer suggested.  
"Does anyone have a cookie?" Wilmod asked the group and Arlington shook his head.  
"A cookie might be a little too few, don't you think?"  
Wilmod sighed annoyed. "All right, does anyone have a pack of cookies?" Negative murmur. Alanis looked at Horner, who looked as if he didn't have a hint of what it was all about. And in that state, he couldn't intervene, either, because: If you have no idea, you keep your mouth shut.  
"You seriously want to organize a cookie jerk-off tournament?" she asked with amused skepticism. Horner seemed to slowly dawn. Had everything passed the boy in spite of his boarding school days? Instead of an answer, they all flinched when coach Statson blew his whistle.  
"If someone spills something other than sweat here, they can scrub the hall with a toothbrush afterwards," he growled. "And now do laps, chop, chop!"

~

The sun was shining, in the trees the birds were chirping. It was a beautiful afternoon and many recruits had taken their books outside to sit on the meadow and learn; two recruits were mowing lawn on the airfield. Alanis sighed discontentedly and entered the hot greenhouse, casting a longing look outside. In the shade of an apple tree Steph and Scarlett sat bent over their notes and discussed.  
"Please don't think I'd lock you up," George suddenly said quietly next to her. There was something pitiful in his gaze.  
"And then why do we always work in here? I can also handle a pruning shear or steer a lawnmower or-"  
"But you're out of shooting range in here. Nobody sees you, nobody hears you. And you have time to talk to Matthew in peace." George nodded outside. Horner approached the greenhouse and rolled up his sleeves for the warmth. Apparently someone shouted something at him, because he raised a hand greeting.  
"He likes you." George said it in a tone as if it wasn't so obvious it was almost embarrassing. She looked up at him and he smiled.  
"The Xenon is definitely not the right place, but some things can't be postponed until later." There was more than just a little something to it. She looked again at Horner, who - fighting with his right shirt sleeve - had stopped to talk to someone.  
"I'd be happy if you both would come back next year," George said gently and went out. Horner nodded to him and then joined Alanis.  
"Everything all right?" he wanted to know. She just nodded.  
"Let me do this." She grabbed his right arm and rolled up the sleeve much more neatly.  
"Uh... thank you..." A little irritated, he looked at her.  
"What's wrong?" Turning around, she took a box and a small knife.  
"You're weird." He also took a box and a knife and followed her into the main part of the greenhouse, where spinach and lamb's lettuce grew on pyramid-shaped racks on several floors. "And I don't mean this haha weird but the strange weird."  
"Aha."  
"Come on, what happened? Where's your mocking smile and the sparkle in your eyes?"  
The beginning of a smile crept onto her face and she raised a brow. The concern on Horner’s face didn't go away completely.  
"It's all right. Can't I be thoughtful for once?"  
"Yes, for sure..."  
Actually, she didn't want to stifle him like that, but what George had said was gnawing at her.

When the club time was almost over, she casually asked:  
"Are you planning on getting your hands dirty again next year?” Apparently, she had torn him out of his thoughts, because he blinked at her for a moment, irritated, before her words really reached him.  
"Oh... well..." He blushed and lowered his gaze. "If you join in... Otherwise, I think it's pretty boring..."  
"Okay..." Through the frame she held out her hand to him. Hesitantly he grabbed it and they shook hands.  
"Deal."  
"Deal." Slowly a grin crept on his face, although he still had red cheeks. Alanis grinned back. At some point she finally had to steal a kiss from him.

~

Matt had buried his face in the pillow and tried to ignore all the others around him packing their bags loudly. He needed the holidays more urgently than he had thought. After O'Malley's suicide, Vincent Shale - who was quite obviously in love with Scarlett Grant - had formed a girl advocacy group. And they clashed - how could it be otherwise - with the girl haters in nice regularity. Matt and Alex had interfered more often than he wanted to count, and he had been given the nickname of "Vigilante". Yesterday evening he had once again accompanied the biggest ruffians to Director Vance's office - he knew it better now than he wanted to, too - and this morning of course he had to fight Hamilton for the last time this year. Tomorrow morning, they would go home for three months’ vacation and he hated the thought of saying goodbye to her without a nice word.  
"Hey... Matt..." Alex touched him carefully on the shoulder.  
"Hmm?" He turned his head and saw Alex crouching in front of his bed and worriedly looking at him.  
"The others have already gone to dinner. Is everything okay with you?”  
"Yes.”  
"You don't look like it."  
"It’s all in the best disorder.” Matt struggled for a crooked smile, but Alex didn't seem nearly convinced.  
"Will you come to dinner?" he asked anyway. Matt nodded barely and Alex got up.  
"Have you already packed your stuff?"  
"Yes, earlier..."  
"Good." Silently they went through the hallways to the dining hall and got their food. There was cheerful exuberance or exam stress around them and Matt felt like he was the only one not excessively looking forward to his home. As so often, his gaze wandered to the girls' table and he corrected himself mentally. Hamilton didn't look like she was going to enjoy the holidays either.

At some point the dining hall emptied again and Matt was still stirring his dessert listlessly.  
"Is it because of Hamilton?" Dylan asked quietly, although there was hardly anyone left to hear him.  
"Hmm?" Matt did the follow-up.  
"I mean, she was pretty nasty this morning..."  
"Oh, that..." Matt waved off.  
"You forgive her everything, don't you?" Dylan smirked and Matt tried frantically not to look over at her, for she was still sitting at the table with Grant and Smith.  
"No, probably not. But she warned me, so I don't take it that bad."  
"What do you mean?” Irritated, Dylan raised a brow.  
"Well, for pretending I have little hearts in my eyes, you're pretty stupid." Matt grinned at Dylan, who punched him against the arm, but grinned back.  
"So you admit it."  
"Maybe.” Matt turned red and looked over at her.  
"And why am I stupid now?”  
"Come on. You always imagine the garden club completely twisted filthy."  
Dylan rolled his eyes, but grinned on.  
"We talk." Matt paused as Hamilton almost as listlessly pushed her dessert away as he did, and Dylan questioningly raised a brow.  
"Yes?"  
"About everything." He shrugged. "And among other things she warned me. She would do anything to mess with me."  
"But why?” Dylan now seemed quite confused.  
"Why...?" Matt sighed quietly. "So that I would become exactly what I am now. A keeper of order. A buffer between her and people like Thomas."  
"...oh. I mean, wow, the girl thinks along. Well, sure, somehow she uses you, but hey..." Dylan patted him on the back. "You get a reward for that, won't you?" Since Matt could think of what Dylan was referring to, he blushed again.  
"Not?" Disappointed, Dylan looked at him.  
"Dylan..."  
"Oh, come on, Matt, jump over your shadow! Did you at least say goodbye to her properly?"  
"How? And when?" Matt asked back and felt a little stupid when Dylan looked at him as if he was a hopeless case.  
"Okay..." Dylan started slowly, "be in the graduate gallery in an hour."  
"But-"  
"No _but_! And now buzz off." Even before Matt had taken away his tray, he was already imagining embarrassing horror scenarios.

~

In the graduate gallery it was almost a bit gloomy, because one of the lamps was broken and only flickered for a short moment from time to time. Matt stopped in front of his father's picture and sighed softly. There were twenty-eight years of difference between them, but in a way, they were suddenly pretty close. The door creaked open and then quiet steps came closer until Hamilton stood next to him and looked up at the picture as well.  
"May I say that your father wasn't really an attractive man?" she asked after a moment. Matt paused, then he snorted amused.  
"My mother liked him, isn't it enough?” He turned his gaze from the picture to Hamilton, who smiled.  
"You have his eyes.”  
"I know."  
"But they look better on you."  
He blushed, but kept looking at her. "Thank you.”  
"Foster put on a pretty good show, you know?" She grinned all of a sudden and Matt sighed.  
"Great..."  
Her grin became a giggle and Matt's idea it would end embarrassingly took shape.  
"He only meant well."  
"I know." Matt still grimaced. She knew for sure that he wasn't just blushing all the time in her presence for nothing, and just as sure she enjoyed playing with him a bit. Just as sure as he wasn't made for such games. To his surprise, however, she smiled without any mockery and patted him gently on the chest, where her hand remained for a moment.  
"See you in three months, yeah?"  
He nodded silently and almost lost himself in her gaze. But then she put her hand on his cheek and breathed a kiss on the other.  
"Enjoy the tranquility."  
Minutes later he was still standing there, wondering why he hadn't even managed to ask her for her phone number.


	15. Interlude I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holiday interlude

"You're not listening to me at all!"  
Matt flinched and almost knocked over his glass while his cousin Kate looked at him reproachfully. "What?"  
"Let Matt arrive in peace, dear," Grandma said gently and took away Matt's empty plate.  
"But..."  
Matt yawned and blinked tiredly at Kate. "Sorry."  
"Go to bed," Grandma said in the same soft tone and smiled at him.  
"Hmm..." Matt rose from the dinner table and walked slowly through the house, up the stairs and into his room. When he turned on the light, he looked irritated at the dress hanging under a protective foil on his wardrobe.  
"Don't you touch it!" Kate appeared behind him, sulking but ready to defend her property.  
"What's that doing there?" Matt wanted to know confused.  
"I just told you long and wide! This is for the prom and there is no space in my room.”  
"Ah..." But Grandma had thought along, because on his bed lay his sleeping clothes and fresh clothes for tomorrow.  
"Don't you have to go to bed or study or something?" he asked when Kate didn't make any effort to move. She made a face. "Listen, I've been travelling for almost three days and it doesn't sleep very well in transporters. Either you get lost or I'll sleep in your bed." Kate snorted outraged and disappeared. Had he been to her like that before? He couldn't remember it, but that didn't have to mean anything.

~

Alanis sat cross-legged on Marge's couch in her private living room, munching a welcome-back-special from Jackjack.  
"I missed his food," she mumbled with a full mouth.  
"You should tell him yourself," Marge returned and sipped her tiny teacup gracefully.  
"I will." Alanis was dead tired, but at the same time somehow excited. It was wonderful and strange at the same time to suddenly be home again, although she would have to dance again.  
"Tell me a little...," Marge asked her, and as if the words had just been waiting, they bubbled out of Alanis' mouth. She and Marge had never had the best relationship, but the long separation had done them good.

"So you have Mr. President's son in your class, of all people?" Marge went on. She didn't look really enthusiastic. Alanis shrugged.  
"He's sitting behind me."  
Marge sighed and poured tea again. "Is he the way it always seems on television?"  
"No. Actually, he's totally relaxed and can even be quite funny." Alanis sipped her tea. "The military haircut doesn't suit him and a little bit of color would do him good, but hey..." She shrugged again.  
"He's an albino," Marge said a little absent. Astonished by Marge's background knowledge, Alanis raised her eyebrows. Marge stroked her dark blue hair from her forehead and then suddenly looked at Alanis sharply.  
"You should stay away from him."  
"That's easy to say. He's the best friend of the only guy I've made friends with, and most likely we'll be flying in a squadron."  
Marge's gaze didn't get any friendlier.  
"Why?", Alanis went after it.  
"You shouldn't venture too close to the powerful. That's unhealthy," said Marge and Alanis laughed quietly.  
"That's what the most powerful woman on this planet says to me?"  
Marge didn't seem like laughing. "Dead Man's Rock is a _shadow planet_ , Alanis, and Oliver Grayson rules almost two-thirds of the space sector. _I_ rule only over whores."  
"Over more than eighty percent of the whores on the entire planet. And by the way, I don't believe you that there are just whores. I know you meet regularly with Blackwall and Dorian." They looked at each other for a very long moment.  
"You chose to follow the path of the Council. I accept that. But then let me go my way too," Marge finally said seriously.  
"Of course. I just wanted to say that you don't have to hide from me. I know how much dirt sticks to our name." Alanis reached for the teapot and filled the small cup again.  
"Why didn't you change your name?" Marge wanted to know then.  
"You mean because anyone who has docked Dead Man's Port more than once has heard the name Hamilton?” Alanis snorted and shook her head. "The Xenon opened the application period and announced at the same time that they are now also training women. I didn't have time to get both a new birth certificate and all other documents. Not even with your contacts."  
Marge nodded deliberately. "You know that's one more reason to look at you crookedly."  
"Not every Hamilton is a whore. Not every Hamilton comes from Dead Man's Rock." But Alanis knew Marge was right.

~

The shopping mall was flooded with light, colorful and clearly emptier than Matt had expected. Together with Grandma, Aunt Debrah and Kate he strolled past the shop windows and wasn't sure how out of place he was. Even his civilian clothes suddenly felt strange and although Kate had nagged about how stupid it looked, he hadn't taken off his military badges once during those holidays.  
"You still haven't told us what you want for your birthday," aunt Debrah remarked over her shoulder.  
"Because I don't know," Matt replied and looked at her apologetically.  
"Maybe we should just give you a cash card from the mall." Grandma thought out loud.  
"That's unfair," Kate complained promptly.  
"Why? This way, Matt can choose something calmly." The two started to discuss and Matt rolled his eyes. He knew again why he was sometimes obnoxious to her: she envied him everything, no matter what, and that with an enthusiasm she would have put better into other things. On the other hand, she was also terribly hateful and dismissive when she thought she was better than him. They were passing a jeweler’s shop when Matt's gaze fell on the watches. He was wearing one, but it had already seen better days.  
"A watch," he said loudly enough to drown Kate, and immediately she kept her mouth shut.  
"Excuse me?" Grandma asked.  
"I want a watch."  
Grandma beamed at him. "Well, then pick one."

What followed was an almost hour-long sales talk, which Grandma and Aunt Debrah devoted themselves to, while Matt was allowed to throw in comments like _the black one I like more._ Instead, he kept peering at a display where he saw snowflakes sparkle. A second saleswoman joined them and asked:  
"Are you looking for a present?"  
"Um... well... I'm just picking a watch... technically..."  
The saleswoman smiled and he sighed humbly.  
"Who should the gift be for?" she wanted to know.  
"A friend."  
"Ah.” The tone of voice was enough to unsettle Matt.  
"I saw the snowflakes and-"  
"It’s our four-season collection."  
"Yes. I'd love to-"  
The saleswoman turned away and opened the display to fetch the satin-covered box of snowflake jewelry.  
"We have here almost everything the heart desires, and much can be put together on request extra." In addition, she reached for a small booklet and flipped through it, while she explained the winter collection to Matt in far too many details. The possibilities overwhelmed him a little, although he was sure he didn't want any kind of ring. And he was almost certain that Hamilton had no ear holes either. Bracelets were forbidden and there was not much left. A simple pendant would suffice, it was supposed to be just a nice gesture for her birthday - although it had been four months until then and a lot could happen in that time - but then the saleswoman continued flipping through the booklet and his gaze fell on a hairpin with a snowflake at the end.  
"Wait a minute." He put his fingertips on the paper and the saleswoman, interrupted in her monologue, seemed irritated.  
"Yes?"  
"I made my decision."  
"Oh," she said in surprise. "Very nice."

~

The town festival was in full swing, but Matt didn't feel like celebrating. His birthplace, his home - it had become unfamiliar to him. Of the other young people, he hardly knew anybody and the ones he knew were the boys from his boarding schools. He only exchanged a few words with them before he strolled on, because both sides had no great desire to warm up old stories. Surprisingly, at a drinks stand he found Kate looking strangely absent in her glass. She had been very quiet the last week and since Matt didn't know what else to do, he went to her.  
"Hey you..."  
"Hey..."  
Silence. Then she glanced at him and downed the contents of her glass.  
"Hey... can you find us a seat over there? I'll get something to drink," she said then.  
"Okay..." Matt shrugged and shoved his way through the crowd that was streaming towards the center of the festival. At one of the tables at the edge there were two places left and he didn't have to wait long for Kate to come back with four bottles.  
"Who shall drink all this?" he wanted to know and took two bottles from her cramped fingers.  
"Well, we. That's Capurso beer, nothing bad." She smiled mischievously.  
"Depends on your perspective," Matt murmured. Nevertheless, he took a bottle and pulled off the crown cork with the bottle opener under the table. As children they had done the same with the lemonade.  
"Let's have a toast?" she asked.  
"To what?" he asked back.  
"To life.”  
"Well then. To life.” The bottles clanked and Matt took a sip. Sweet and malty, it tickled his tongue before the bitter aftertaste distorted his face.  
"I knew you would like it." Kate grinned all of a sudden.  
"Well _to like_ is a big word."  
She laughed quietly. "Will you tell me who you bought the jewelry for?"  
"Absolutely not for you.”  
"Do you have a girlfriend?"  
"Where am I supposed to find a girlfriend all of a sudden?"  
"Well, the Xenon now accepts women."  
"And?"  
"Isn't there one you like?"  
"Kate... that's five girls on almost three hundred boys."  
"And?”  
Matt sighed. "Nothing."  
"What do you mean, _nothing_?”  
He sighed again. "What’s there supposed to be? We're comrades."  
Kate seemed frustrated. "Don't give me that shit. For one of them the jewelry must be." For a moment they looked at each other over the bottles and then Matt shrugged inwardly.  
"Alanis."  
"Is that her name?"  
"No, that's what she calls her watch."  
"Matt!"  
"Of course that's her name. We're in the same class."  
"Yes?"  
He nodded and shrugged.  
"And...? What is she like?”  
"Pale, blond, steel-grey eyes." Matt had no idea where to start answering that question. Kate rolled her eyes.  
"The same is written in Alexander Grayson's profile."  
"Do you like him?" Matt wanted to know irritated, because the only name Kate mentioned otherwise was Nolan, her boyfriend.  
"Maybe a little..." She hid behind her bottle and Matt had to grin.  
"He'll be flattered to hear."  
"Wait... you know him?" she asked, dumbfounded. Matt's grin got a little bigger.  
"We are friends.”  
"Oh." Despite the darkness, he saw her turning red. "Back to Alanis," she said after clearing her throat.  
"What shall I say? She's incredibly serious and withdrawn on the outside, almost condescending, but if you know her a little, she has a lot of humor and is actually very relaxed. Ambitious, but no nerd. And she flies like the devil."  
Kate laughed quietly. "And why do you like her so much?"  
Matt thought for a moment and realized that he had already drunk the first bottle. After the first few sips the stuff became dangerously drinkable.  
"I honestly don't know at all. It may sound strange now, but there's something mysterious about her. Something dangerous."  
Kate laughed quietly. "I wouldn't have thought that _you_ of all people would be into dangerous women."  
Matt felt his cheeks warming up and took another sip before he said: "I told you, hard to describe. You would have to get to know her.”  
"I'm looking forward to it." Since it had to be clear to her that he wouldn't just bring her home, he asked:  
"What do you mean?”  
"Well... I'll come with you the day after tomorrow."  
"Excuse me?" He choked on his beer and had to cough.  
"I was accepted at the Xenon." Kate beamed and Matt coughed across the table.  
" _What?_ "  
"Grandpa said, now that you've got a partial scholarship, they can pay the tuition for me and-"  
"And you're only _now_ getting the idea to tell me about it?" He didn't even know that he had received a partial scholarship.  
"I thought you'd be happy..."  
"Kate, you're not made for the Xenon."  
"But my dad was there! Your dad was there! You're there!"  
"Yeah, but it's no place for girls."  
"And what about your Alanis?" she asked impudently, while anger was building up in Matt.  
"Alanis is definitely no longer a girl. But you are still one.”  
"I'm not at all! Why don't you tell me why you don't want me there?” Kate got bitchy and proved that she certainly wasn't half as mature as Alanis.  
"It's not about whether I want you there or not! But that is a military academy which for almost three hundred and fifty years trained only young men. Most of them don't want women in their ranks and believe me, they let them feel it."  
"Bullshit, you're exaggerating."  
"They shaved off Smith's colorful hair, publicly in front of everyone. Diering is not going anywhere alone. Grant is only called the Black Slut. O'Malley killed herself after a nude video of her was shown in all classrooms. Alanis is the only one who knows how to defend herself."  
He took a deep breath. In Kate's eyes there was uncertainty.  
"I'm not just class president or best of the year, Kate. I regularly drag the troublemakers to the director. I let Alanis scratch my eyes out, so that nobody can do this to her. I am terribly unpopular and envied. And I can't take care of you there."  
"You don't have to take care of me," Kate said slowly, and then she literally exploded. "You don't even have a clue who I really am! You are not interested at all in us!"  
"Have you ever thought of the fact that this is not necessarily my fault? Grandpa put me in boarding school, when I was seven! I was only seven damn years old and suddenly I'm supposed to be away from home for three months apiece? You didn't give me the opportunity to live with you. You may always be terribly jealous because Grandma supposedly prefers me. But she doesn't. She tries to compensate what is missing. She's probably even sorry. So don't tell me I don't care about you! How am I supposed to, when I don't really have any connection to you?" When he noticed that he was almost screaming, he stopped. Tears glistened in Kate's eyes and he stood up.  
"Where... where are you going?" she asked quietly.  
"Back to my holiday residence."


	16. The content of a lemon bonbon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second year at the Xenon begins.

The chaos in the space port of Xenon seemed to Alanis almost bigger than last year. But just as Valenzar was a government planet, Capurso a farm planet and Dead Man's Rock a shadow planet, Xenon was a military planet. And so she swam in the stream of soldiers and recruits of all kinds all the way out to the forecourt where the buses were waiting for them.   
"Freshmen over here," it sounded pretty central, but she wasn't a freshman anymore and looked around searching. A little off the main road there were more buses - the simple passenger transporters of the barracks and the more comfortable travelling buses with the Xenon logo.   
"Name?" asked the soldier at the bus entrance and didn't even look up from his tablet.   
"Alanis Hamilton."   
"Get in," he said after scrolling briefly. She didn't let it be told twice and pushed her bag already into the luggage compartment in one of the first rows. The bus wasn't even half full yet. She had come with the east feeder transport and shortly before that the south feeder had docked, but most of the recruits obviously came from north or west. She fiddled her music player out of her pocket and stuck the tiny headphones in her ears before waiting.   
A short time later she was startled from a short snooze when someone next to her dropped into the seat. Horner. Who else? He gave her a tiny smile and then laughed at one of van Houten's remarks who had sat down with Evans on the other side of the gangway. There was a short bustle when suddenly heaps of recruits got on the bus, but then the doors closed hissing and the driver grumbled through the microphone:   
"Everybody buckle up and don't puke, please. Are less than two hours’ drive." Alanis sighed inwardly. She was already looking forward to a hot shower and later to her bed.

When Horner nudged her with her elbow, she only noticed that she had dozed away again and looked up confused. He held out a bonbon to her and looked at her encouragingly; in the other hand he held the torn bag to it. Actually, she wanted to refuse, but around his mouth there was almost a pinched line and so she nodded thankfully and took the bonbon from him. When she unwrapped it, she knew why: a tiny piece of paper was twisted into the package. But first she stuck the bonbon in her mouth. Almost immediately, she grimaced violently as the candy began to dissolve into sheer citric acid.   
"Bastard," she choked out with difficulty and saw Horner grinning. He held out the bag to van Houten.   
"Bonbon?"   
"Sure."   
You could clearly hear the "Ugh" and "Ah" noises as the bag wandered through the bus and Horner seemed to enjoy himself deliciously. After Alanis had her facial muscles under control again, she smoothed the bonbon paper so that she could read the tiny piece of paper in it.   
_I have a favor to ask of you._ Followed by a phone number. She fished her phone out of her little backpack and ran the scribbled number through a special program; the first two number blocks revealed the origin: Calphion. An industrial planet specialized in weapons and armaments and therefore had a strong military presence. The people of Calphion were said to have a sense of order, discipline and a strong tendency towards militarism. And when Alanis thought of Horner, it was kinda true. She looked over at him. He had tried to make himself comfortable, and played with his phone, although he looked as if he was quite tired. She quickly saved the number in her phone- simply under M- and wrote a message.

_What kind of favor are we talking about?_

Next to her Horner flinched when his phone suddenly vibrated. Almost immediately he started typing.

**You have to keep an eye on my cousin Kate for me. She is here.**

It was followed by a photo of a pretty girl looking similar to Horner in a way.

**She is not made for the Xenon.**

_Who is?_

**I don't know. But she is still far too much a child.**

_So I should look after her instead of you?_

**Please.**

Quite simple and straightforward.

_How much does she already know?_

**Almost nothing. She only told me at the last moment that we were leaving together. We had a fight and haven't spoken a word since.**

That didn't sound good at all and could easily backfire. For both of them, of course.

**So... she wrote. But I didn't read it.**

_Why? I mean, is it really more than a trifle?_

It took quite a while until an answer came.

**I said the Xenon is not a place for girls, she accused me of not being interested in her and the family, that I wouldn't really know her at all. One word gave the other and in the end... it was the last straw.**

_You of all people? *wink- Emoji*_

**Yeah, me. It happens.**

_I would have liked to see this. *grin-Emoji*_

**She has no idea what she's getting into. I can't take care of her. So... could you do that for me?**

_I will try. But under certain circumstances she will close down completely. *Shrugging-Emoji* Depends on what you told her about me._

**Thank you.**

Alanis sighed and looked out the window. The academy grounds were not far away and she put the phone and music player back into her backpack. Hopefully she didn't go babysitting when she took Kate under her wing. Even Steph, who had become not only a grey mouse, but also anxious and downright affectionate, often got on her nerves. Nevertheless, she had missed Steph and Scarlett a little. She saw the Academy approaching and felt almost relief as the bus passed the big gate and finally stopped on the forecourt. As ugly as the brick building was, it felt good to be back. She was fed up with glittering costumes and loud music.   
With her bag over her shoulder, she looked for the buses of the freshmen, but before she had found Kate, she had already discovered her cousin, for a girl's voice shouted uncertainly:   
"Matt, wait!” Alanis was almost run over and reflexively grabbed her. "Hey! Let go of me!"   
"Kate?"   
The girl paused and looked at Alanis, almost immediately recognizing shone in her eyes.   
"Alanis."   
She nodded. "Don't you ever think about trying to lurk after him again. That won't do you both any good."   
"But-"   
"No _but_. Pretend like you don't know him."   
"But-", Kate started again.   
"Aren't you listening to me?"   
Kate looked at her with big eyes, then swallowed. "He's right, isn't he?"   
"About what? That the Xenon doesn't actually want girls? Yes, definitely." Alanis nodded seriously. "And now go to the others. Stay inconspicuous. We'll talk later."   
Kate nodded unhappy and literally stumbled away.

~

"How have your holidays been?" Scarlett asked and closed the door behind her.   
"Boring," Lisa said and confiscated the bed Veronica had owned before.   
"Terrible," Steph said and dropped onto her own bed.   
"Exhausting," Alanis replied and also sank onto her bed.   
"Wonderful," Scarlett commented dryly. For a short moment it was quiet, nobody moved, and then they had to giggle, even Steph.   
"Is anybody else looking forward to a hot shower?" Steph asked then.   
"Yes, I do," Lisa said and stretched out until it cracked.   
"First the work, then the pleasure," Scarlett noticed and opened her wardrobe full of verve. Alanis joined her and noticed that her blouses and jackets had already been replaced by the new ones with the first silver star on their collar.   
"How long do you think it will take for us to be allowed to fly in real?" Steph asked.   
"Not long. It's not far until the first frost anymore and to send a beginner off on an icy runway...? Well, I don't know." Scarlett shrugged.   
"We are no longer beginners," Lisa protested from the background.   
"You know what I mean..."   
Lisa sighed annoyed.   
"I look forward much more to finally flying as a squadron," Alanis said. Scarlett looked at her with her brow raised.   
"You really are the only one.”   
"I know."   
"I don't understand you," Steph said and now turned to her wardrobe as well. "Horner will probably be your squadron leader and you have to follow his orders. Can you do that at all? I mean, the way you guys get on each other's nerves every time?”   
Alanis wondered for a moment how Steph knew, but she shrugged. "We flew a few partner missions and it worked pretty well."   
"Yes, but he wasn't in command."   
"That's right. But actually, it doesn't bother me."   
"We'll see about that...", Scarlett remarked in a I-have-some-doubts-about-it- tone. Again, Alanis shrugged and when she was satisfied with the order in her closet she asked:   
"Is anyone coming to greet the newbie girls?”   
Surprised, Lisa looked at her. "Seriously?"   
"No? Well, then no."   
"Wait," Steph said and joined her.   
"Coming." Scarlett said and the three of them left their room.   
The second girl's room was right next door and Steph knocked. Nobody moved. Alanis knocked again.   
"It's Alanis."   
Thereupon Kate opened the door. "Yes?"   
"We just wanted to say hello."   
"Oh. Uh..." She turned to her new comrades. "Is it okay for you?"   
"Sure." said one.   
"Come on in." Kate kept opening the door and Alanis, Steph and Scarlett entered. Almost immediately, Alanis sensed that whoever had had the last word on the selection of the new recruits had to be a girl-hater. Despite the long journey, they were all neatly painted, with carefully made nails and surprisingly well styled. During the welcoming ceremony she hadn't paid attention, but now it was almost like a slap in the face- no one of them would survive this for long.   
"I'm Scarlett, that are Steph and Alanis," said Scarlett friendly.   
"I'm Annabeth," said one of the girls, a blonde who wore a cheerleader shirt under her thin jacket to match Alanis' first impression.   
"Isabelle," said the second girl, with mouse-brown curls she had a good chance of simply disappearing in the crowd.   
"Lillian," said the third girl. She, too, was blond, but with a red tinge, and her remarkably broad mouth would provide plenty of comments.   
"Florence," introduced the fourth girl herself. She was nearly as pale as Alanis, but had deep black hair and almost disturbingly blue eyes.   
"Kate," Kate said quietly. She was a dark type like Horner, but unlike him she had deep brown eyes.   
"Pleased to meet you," Alanis said and tried to get a friendly tone. "Lisa stayed over, she's not finished unpacking yet."   
"And your number five?" Lillian asked immediately. Luckily Scarlett took over the talking from there on. She put into words what had happened during the first year, packing the truth into cotton wool in a way that suited the type of girls sitting in front of them. Steph, in the meantime, lowered her gaze in emotion, while the freshmen got big eyes.   
"But that's...," Isabelle started and then broke off stunned.   
"Well, that's life. Hard and pitiless," Alanis said.   
"Alanis!" Steph rebuked her immediately.   
"What? We're not in high school, where it's all about prom and the next match."   
Annabeth promptly made a face.   
"Would you have preferred to run straight into the open knife?" Alanis asked her coolly and she twitched before pressing her lips together.   
"No," she admitted.   
"Fine. Time for a shower.” Alanis nodded into the round.

~

Matt lay on his bed, his eyes closed, and felt surprisingly good despite the tiredness. The Xenon was much more his home than his grandparents' house with its room, which was officially his, but still felt incredibly strange.   
"Say ... what does it mean? Retribute in kind?" With Dylan's question, Matt was suddenly wide awake and sat up.   
"What?"   
"In which context?" Alex asked from the wardrobe.   
"There is a new note from the Council. And it says that recruits can now be rewarded in kind for help with homework, assignments, etc."   
"Well, then that's exactly what it means," Alex simply said. Dylan didn't seem to like the answer.   
"It means", Chris translated a little uneasily, "that you now have to suck someone's dick to get tutoring."   
Matt made a face.   
"But it’s not a must," Zachary threw in as always better-knowing.   
"Sure, as if someone would miss the opportunity," Chris muttered. Neither he nor Dylan were particularly good at the theoretical part.   
"You're not going to join in, are you?" Dylan asked worriedly.   
"No," Zachary said immediately.   
"No," Matt also said. Alex stayed silent over his clothes and uncomfortable silence spread until Dylan, Chris and Zachary took their belongings and disappeared to the washroom.

"Is everything all right?" Matt asked. Alex nodded.   
"My holidays weren't quite as restful as I would have liked," he said. As often as Matt Alex had seen on television at any events, he could understand. "And yours?”   
"Happily uneventful," Matt replied and Alex nodded thoughtfully. He leaned with crossed arms against the wardrobe.   
"Do you resent the fact that I have no problem with this new rule?"   
"It's duress," Matt said uneasily and thought of Sean.   
"Is it really duress when they have the choice to say _no_?" Alex gave back and put his head a little crooked. Suddenly Matt had stomach ache.   
"I mean," Alex slowly added, "we are healthy young men. We have needs, don't we?”   
"But do you have to put that off on those who need help?" Matt quietly asked back. Alex grimaced.   
"Does it make things better when I promise you-"   
"You don't have to promise me anything," Matt interrupted him and got up. "It's up to you how you handle this." He went to his closet and picked up a fresh uniform, feeling Alex's gaze, but they both didn't say another word.

Chris took his bag and wanted to go, but Alex took a quick step and positioned himself in front of the door. Annoyed Chris looked at him.   
"Listen...", Alex started uneasily, "because of earlier... I think you got it wrong. If you ask me for it, I will help you, of course, as usual." He looked first at Chris, then at Dylan. Both nodded.   
"Thanks, man," Dylan muttered a little relieved while Chris patted him on the shoulder.   
"Are we ready now?" Matt also took his bag and together they went to the classroom, which Matt unlocked.   
The others trundled in bit by bit, everyone chose the same place as before, and the usual how-were-your-holidays conversations were conducted.   
"Hey Hamilton," Damien called across the room and Alanis looked at him questioningly. "How was your summer?"   
"Without your ugly face? Plenty relaxed." The others laughed and Matt denied himself a smirk, because Damien was really no beauty.   
"No, seriously," she then continued with a wink when Damien looked at her darkly, "I had much prettier company.” Matt knew her well enough by now to know she wasn't just saying it, and jealousy painfully stung him. Meanwhile, Thomas had strolled over to her and fell astride Dylan's chair.   
"Well, for now we're the only company you got, sweetheart." He leaned forward and looked at her provocatively.   
"Then I'd rather stay chaste." She didn't move from the spot.   
"What a pity... You know, I like the new rule for homework help," Thomas continued and Matt tensed. Alex, who stood next to him, felt it and put a hand on his arm.   
"Oh yes?" Alanis asked and smiled her mocking smile, which Matt had actually missed. "I wasn't even aware that you were good enough to be able to give tutoring." The sideswipe would certainly have worked for another, but Thomas was well aware that he wasn't shining either theoretically or practically, so it didn't surprise Matt when he gently shook his head.   
"No, but that way I can ask _you_ for tutoring, sweetheart."   
Matt could have sworn the disgust with Alanis' face was real.   
"The thought gives me nausea." She leaned back and Thomas distorted his lips.   
"Hamilton..." Matt now gently admonished.   
"Can't you see I'm talking right now?" she turned to him.   
"I see and hear. That's exactly why I'm interfering."   
"Compared to Wilmod, I'd prefer you to make such nice offers."   
Matt turned bright red. "I beg your pardon!"   
"Or your pale friend for all I care. Oh, I'd probably think of a dozen guys right away who I'd take with a kiss."   
Alex' cheeks had turned pink, but Tutor Waldo stepped into the laughter.   
"I'm happy to see you all again so cheerfully. Can we get on with our little round, now?" Everyone hurried to get to their seats. "Fine, fine. Where do we start? Oh yes... Are you comfortable with your class president or should we re-elect?" Waldo interpreted the murmur with years of practice. "Good. Next point. In addition to the weekend special regulations, you now have the opportunity to make a request for permission to leave. The document for it is in the back of one of the cupboards and must be delivered to me, preferably more than a week in advance. Apart from that, you will fly intensive simulations for the next few weeks in order to get into a real plane afterwards."   
He paused briefly and fetched a stack of papers from his desk, which he pressed into Zachary's hand.   
"These are the new book lists. The same game as last year. And otherwise... well..." Waldo shrugged and grinned. "Fizzle off."   
The others hurried so as not to have to wait too long at the bookshop, but since Matt had to lock the room anyway, he put the note away calmly.   
"Hey, hey, hey... did you hear that?" Dylan pushed himself past Daniel and built himself up in front of Matt.   
"I have ears, Dylan, so yes, I heard Waldo."   
"We can have birthday parties!"   
Matt raised a brow. "Which welcoming speech did you hear?"   
"Oooooh come on! Request for going-out!” Dylan was hopping up and down, like so many times before.   
"Get back in the game." Alex put a hand on his shoulder.   
"You're such spoilsports, you know?" Dylan pulled a pout.   
"We'll talk about it when it's time," Alex decided and dragged him out of the room with him.   
Matt followed them and locked the classroom. He had really missed this whole chaotic bunch.


	17. Hamilton 3 - Horner 0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unlike Las Vegas, not everything happening in Dead Man's Port stays there...

The first day of school had passed by many in a veil of tiredness and jet lag and Alanis was glad that she had gone to sleep early on both evenings. It would take her a while to get used to getting up early again, but when the day started with politics, there was no rush. The newbie girls, as expected, had hit the disillusionment hard and at breakfast Alanis was sitting opposite an abundantly pale Kate.   
"How can you just take it so easily?" Kate asked quietly.   
"You know," Scarlett started, before Alanis could say anything, "at first she was all drilled for fight. And then it suddenly clicked and the combat chick became a mocking pixie."   
"Oh please." Alanis wrinkled her nose. "I'm not a pixie."   
"But full of mockery."   
"You can't deny it," Steph interfered now. "The way you deal with Wilmod and Withmer..." Alanis pulled up a corner of her mouth.   
"It's more fun than cold ignorance, you know?"   
Steph grimaced a little while Kate looked at her doubtfully.   
"Aren't you afraid of them?"   
"As soon as you start being afraid, it's over," Alanis replied thoughtfully after a moment. "Because those who are at stake can feel it. And then you're really nothing more than booty."   
"Don't exaggerate now," Scarlett said, but Alanis also saw something like doubt in her eyes.   
"All right, change of topic. If you haven't packed your bag yet, hurry up." With these words Alanis stood up to take away her tray. Kate hastily followed her.   
"You can defend yourself properly, can't you? Not just pushing and all that?"   
"Sure. Otherwise I would keep my mouth shut for sure."   
"Actually... actually I can do that too. But I never had to defend myself." On Calphion was probably value on such things.   
"But at least you can. As long as you remember when it's important..." Alanis looked at Kate and nodded encouragingly at her before she pushed her tray into the return cart and turned to the exit. She hadn't got far yet when someone called for her.   
"Hey, Hamilton!"   
She turned around. Lukas stood some distance away, his hands casually in his trouser pockets, and had a pinched smile on his face. She knew what was coming now, even if she hadn't thought he was going to present his case in public; he was more the type for conversations in the shadows.   
"What's up?" she asked and he strolled two steps closer before stopping again. That alone was enough to create a charisma that attracted the other recruits, like the moth attracted by light.   
"A little birdie told me that you earned your pocket money by dancing in a nightclub," he said loud enough for half the dining hall to hear. Although a hard lump formed in her stomach - after all, he was telling the truth - she laughed.   
"Yeah, sure." She had seen Lukas in the Blue Tulip and told Marge about it, which in retrospect gave her a completely different nice story to hear. "And a little birdie told _me_ that your father had paid you a whore who got a laughing fit at the sight of your dick." Unprofessional, but true. Lukas turned red and pale at the same time; a loose ring of onlookers had formed around them in the meantime.   
"You have a tattoo on your back. A mermaid," he said, striving for serenity.   
"I'm ready to prove you wrong. You too?" She put her head a little crooked and smiled amused.   
"Strip! Strip! Strip!"   
Whatever happened - basically she could only win.   
"Alanis..." Kate's voice almost sounded begging, but Alanis winked at her visibly and took off the jacket which she handed her. As she reached for the first blouse button, the others began to yell. Lukas didn't budge. Just as she let the blouse dangle from the curved finger, Horners voice sounded disgruntled:   
"We're not in a strip club here."   
"I'm aware of it. I'm just defending my honor." And she was also aware of what kind of picture she was just giving. Her bra was made of skin-coloured and pink lace, the former hitting her skin tone so perfectly that from a distance it looked as if the bra only consisted of a few pink stripes. Horner visibly tried to look her in the face, but his cheeks were already pink. She smiled at him and turned her back to him, looking over her shoulder.   
"Are you seeing a tattoo somewhere?" She thanked the creator of the temporary tattoos with all her heart.   
"No."

~

Matt had to take a deep breath before he could answer. This would probably be pretty embarrassing.   
"No, there is no tattoo. And now get dressed again."   
"And what about her claim?" one of the onlookers asked.   
"As far as the nature of Daniel's intimate area is concerned, everyone can get their own idea of it in the washroom. We're in the dining hall." Daniel now turned red completely, but apparently more angry than ashamed, because he shouted:   
"But I have seen the mermaid!"   
"What, you admit you've been hanging around in some nightclubs?" Alanis asked amusedly.   
"It's forbidden for recruits to go to such places, Daniel," Matt remarked severely.   
"Was she perhaps even blond, like me? Ugh, what a crime," Alanis mocked and slowly buttoned her blouse.   
"That's enough now."   
She turned her eyes to Matt and although the blouse was still hanging outside of her trousers and three buttons were still open too much, she took her jacket from Kate and slipped inside.   
"Please dress properly," he asked her.   
"I'd have to open the trousers to put the blouse in properly, but we're not in a strip club here." She smiled at him innocently.   
"Two-zero for Hamilton," someone commented. Matt demonstratively took a look at the watch.   
"It's still ten minutes to class. Until then, you should be able to go to your room or a washroom."   
"Ten minutes? I'll make it." With a broad smile she pulled the blouse tight and presented her pretty décolleté again. "But are you so quick to jerk off?"   
"Three-zero for Hamilton."   
Even if she hadn't turned away directly, Matt was missing the words. Alex gently patted him on the shoulder.   
"You tried."   
"This woman drives me crazy," Matt murmured.   
"It's in the nature of things, my friend," Alex remarked now, audibly amused. "But I fear, as much fun as she has in it, you will suffer still quite a while."

Shortly before dinner Matt was called to Director Vance.   
"Sir?"   
"Sit down." Vance sat behind his massive desk and nodded friendly to Matt, who quickly complied. "I've told you before that the Xenon needs more recruits like you. I'm also aware that you- a moment, please." Vance was interrupted by the ringing of a telephone in the next room. He hurried over to the secretary's office and answered the call. Meanwhile Matt's eyes fell on the documents found on the desk. It were the files of Alanis and Daniel and suddenly it began to tingle in his stomach. Since Alanis wouldn't tell him where she came from, this was his chance. That Vance's phone call seemed important made it even easier, but everything in Matt was reluctant to take a forbidden look at the file.   
"... I'll be happy to explain it to you again..." it sounded strained-friendly from the next room. Just a tiny glance at the address... Matt stood up with his breath holding still and half wrenched his neck when he opened Alanis' file with pointed fingers and searched for the address block.   
_Noxton, Dead Man's Rock._   
He closed the file again and sat down. Dead Man's Rock? At the same moment Vance ended the conversation and came back with a sigh.   
"Excuse me. So, I know you're not exactly making yourself popular, but please go ahead. I suspected there would be more than a few problems if we suddenly had to train young women, but I'd like to avoid the big bang."   
"Me too, sir," Matt murmured in agreement. Vance nodded.   
"I've already spoken to Miss Hamilton and Lukas. The latter receives a warning. Since you are all in the same class, I'd like to ask you once again to keep an eye on it."   
"I'll do my best, sir."   
"But?" Vance looked at him half amused, half worried.   
"It's very difficult to keep Hamilton in check."   
"Well, consider it part of your training."   
Matt nodded obediently.   
"Do you think she'll disobey your orders as a squadron leader?" Vance asked. Matt shook his head.   
"She has no problem with authority, sir..."   
"It's one with you, I see." Vance nodded. "Try to leave these personal things outside."   
"Yes, sir."   
"Have a nice evening, Horner."   
"Thank you, sir. You too, sir." Matt left the director's office relieved. Since the others had persuaded him long enough he would become squadron leader, this unofficial confirmation did not surprise him excessively. But Dead Man's Rock? Thinking, he slowly went back to his room when the realization struck him so suddenly he almost missed the step. The Pirate Planet! The destination for all pirates, smugglers and criminals, for deserters, dropouts and runaways, for all who didn't know where to go. Anyone who sunk there once hardly ever got away from there again. Dead Man's Port was probably the worst hotbed of sin in the entire space sector, while the capital, Noxton, was pretty unknown. But in terms of Alanis, it explained a lot. Maybe Daniel was even right, after all there were temporary tattoos - Kate had had one the summer before last. But Matt would be careful not to talk to Alanis about it just like that.

~

Alanis closed her bag and put it in its place. Steph flipped through one of the new books and Lisa listened to music. Scarlett went up and down with her phone in her hand, she wrote messages and seemed highly concentrated, so Alanis didn't want to disturb her. But Scarlett obviously wasn't half as busy as she seemed, because she almost casually said:   
"Sweetheart, whatever you were thinking - and obviously it wasn't much- have you gotten up to the consequences?"   
"Sorry, Scarlett, but what would you have me do?" Alanis asked back. "Lukas would have asked me to show him this tattoo in the third sentence at the latest."   
"You could have refused."   
"Yes, so the mob would lick blood and her blouse would be taken off afterwards in some corner," Lisa remarked dryly. "Just be happy that she gets all the attention. I wouldn't like to trade places with her," Lisa rarely said so much in one piece.   
"Lisa is right," Steph said quietly.   
"And what if now everyone comes around the corner with such assertions?" Scarlett wanted to know tense. Alanis saw deep concern in her face.   
"Lukas has received a warning and is given a two-week punishment service. If he takes the liberty again, he will only get a dishonorable degree. It should be a warning to the others."   
"Some warnings take a while to arrive," Scarlett gave back not a bit reassured.   
"Well, then so be it." Alanis could only shrug. "I don't create such situations, okay? I just react."   
There was a knock and Scarlett opened the door.   
"Hi..." Kate looked a little embarrassed.   
"Well, where does the shoe pinch?", Alanis wanted to know.   
"Can I talk to you?"   
"Sure."   
Alanis followed her outside and then to the washroom.   
"So?"   
Kate looked incredibly unhappy and kneaded her fingertips. "Um... Matt and I had a fight before we got here. And now he's not reading my messages."   
"And?"   
"I'd like to talk to him. You know, about the argument and all that in the dining hall earlier. I mean... you weren't exactly nice to him." Kate looked up reproachfully to Alanis.   
"I have no idea what he told you about me and I don't want to know, but I'll tell you one thing: make your own opinion. From him, from me, from the Xenon. Here there are always at least two truths and one of them is that your dear cousin and I have made an agreement."   
"What kind of agreement?" Kate asked hesitantly.   
"He is the buffer between me and the others," Alanis explained simply and Kate nodded. Apparently Horner had mentioned something like that.   
"But you use him," she said quietly.   
"It's an agreement. Maybe he's not quite happy with it, because otherwise he could be one of the many spectators and look-aways, but it hardens him and in the end it takes him where he belongs. Up to the command post," Alanis replied.   
"How do you know?"   
"Because I've flown with him for a few hours now. And because I talked to him long enough. As a comrade, as a friend, as a woman". Alanis smiled and Kate seemed confused. "Listen, Kate. I now trust my own knowledge of human nature to the extent that I act accordingly. Do you know how the boys in boarding schools deal with each other? Do you know what nice rituals there are? No? We both don't know what happened to him, but something made him shy and insecure. He has to get out of there."   
"But therefore you can't just use him like a blackboard sponge!"   
"I don't use him like a blackboard sponge, please." Alanis frowned angrily. She understood what Horner had meant - Kate was still very childish. "You have to break the eggs before you can make an omelet out of them, right?"   
"But... Matt likes you and you..."   
"Shh!" Alanis put a finger on her lips. "First, I know and second, the wrong people shouldn't hear this. Otherwise they break him _without_ making an omelet afterwards."   
Kate slapped her hand in front of her mouth. "You think this weird Council would do that?" she whispered.   
"They made Veronica kill herself. So yes, they certainly won't stop at their own people." Alanis indicated a shrug.   
For a few minutes Kate struggled with herself and her thoughts, with tears rolling down her cheeks.   
"If you want, I'll tell him to contact you," Alanis tried to resume the beginning of the conversation and Kate nodded.   
"Thank you."   
To Alanis' surprise, she suddenly found herself in a hug.   
"Oh... um... it's okay..." Taken by surprise, she patted Kate's back.   
"Are you a couple?"   
"What?" Astonished, Alanis looked at her. "What makes you think so?"   
Kate suddenly seemed embarrassed. "Well... Matt's way too shy to admit it, and you said you talked to him as a woman..."   
Alanis laughed. "It's not like that I don't like him, I do. Even though _like_ has a very wide range of definitions." The idea was pretty sweet. Holding hands and looking into each others eyes in love? She had to giggle. "But before I sleep with him, he has to get himself together. And tell me he likes me." She winked at Kate, who was still a little embarrassed. "Don't worry, he won't die as a virgin. Someday he'll get his act together."   
Kate nodded. "Why don't you call him by his name?" Again she managed to amaze Alanis with a simple question. For a moment she actually thought about what to say.   
"First names - and especially the short forms - like to create a closeness that may be neither wanted nor useful. Names and titles are used in the hierarchy to make it clear. The boys call each other by their first name, but us only by the last name. We do it the same way. The instructors could very well use the first name like in school, but it's not common in the military."   
"I know", Kate said. "But that doesn't answer my question."   
"If you haven't noticed, officially we don't like each other. Point one. Point two: in a few weeks he will most likely be the leader of my training squadron and I have to follow his orders. It makes it easier to just use his last name, even when I think of him."   
"But that's terribly unromantic."   
Alanis giggled. "Well, I don't have a nerve for romance anyway, but even if I did, the Xenon is certainly not the right place for it."   
"But for love time or place don't matter," Kate contradicted.   
"Woah, woah, woah! Who is talking about love here?" Alanis said defensively and got a doubting look from Kate. "We were talking about liking before."   
"But... have you never been in love before?" Kate wanted to know and now looked as if she couldn't believe it.   
"No. And now I certainly have more important things in mind. My education, for example."   
"But some chances don't come again!"   
"The Xenon for example", Alanis agreed with her. Outraged, almost horrified, Kate shook her head.   
"You are heartless. Matt deserves better than you!"   
Alanis raised a brow, but Kate rushed out. If Horner wanted to do himself a favor, he would keep ignoring Kate's messages.


	18. Different Invitations

Together with Alex and Dylan Matt stood at the bulletin board.   
"Well, I liked flying technique," Alex said and tore Matt a little out of his thoughts.   
"I don't know," Dylan said brooding. "I don't really have time for this."   
"But you're learning cool new things."   
"Yeah... but I've got enough to learn."   
Alex sighed, "Then don't. Are you digging out carrots again, Matt?" Matt got a nudge against the arm.   
"Stop it with the carrots", he grumbled, but took a pen and wrote himself into the list of the Garden Club, where so far only Kate and two of her comrades stood. Dylan laughed quietly.   
"As long as Hamilton doesn't write her name down too, you're safe."   
"No one is safe from me."   
"When you speak of the devil..." Alex grinned and Matt took a look over his shoulder. Alanis nodded to them for greeting - a sympathy gesture that Matt had not expected - and took the pen from his hand with pointed fingers. She wasn't quite finished when she casually said:   
"You know, Foster, we could ask George if he's growing zucchini for you."   
Dylan turned red. "Um... no thanks, don't bother."   
"Zucchini?" Alex asked irritatedly.   
"Long story," Dylan murmured defensively.   
"Long? Not really." Alanis smiled and Matt couldn't resist a laugh, although he himself was also blushed with the memory. When she looked at him, however, he stopped abruptly.   
"Oh no... I just wanted to ask if we could find a suitable vegetable for Grayson too."   
Matt looked at Alex and shrugged.   
"Could somebody explain the joke to me?" Alex asked confusedly.   
Alanis winked at him and disappeared.   
"Hello? Guys?"   
Matt and Dylan looked at each other and then both shook their heads.   
"Better not," Dylan said carefully.   
Matt nodded in agreement.

##

When Matt dropped on his bed, it crackled suddenly under him. Irritated, he pulled out a little piece of paper under his blanket.   
**Midnight, room 40-11**   
No less confused, he blinked at the few words. He had no idea where room 40-11 should be, and why midnight, of all times, when the curfew began at ten? He crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it into the trash when it dawned on him. The Council. Suddenly he became dizzy. What had he done to be summoned before the council?   
"Matt? Everything all right?" Alex asked, but his voice sounded terribly far away. "Hey." Alex' hand on his shoulder made him flinch.   
"I think I need a headache pill," Matt mumbled and tried not to stumble out of the room in a panic.   
However, he didn't go to the infirmary, but went straight up to the fourth floor to look at the room numbers. It wasn't the west wing, nor the main building. It was not until the east wing that he found what he was looking for. The dizziness had turned into stomach pain and at dinner he hardly got a bite down. Alex looked at him anxiously.   
"Aren't you still feeling better?"   
"No," Matt murmured and pushed the almost untouched rice back and forth. He looked at the girls table. Kate and Alanis had been arguing - at least he assumed that, even though Alanis had put it differently - and Kate sat as far away from her as possible. Any attempts to learn from Alanis what it was all about she had knocked off, which made him suspect they had been talking about him.   
His stomach rumbled and his thoughts turned in circles. What did the Council want from him?   
"Come on, a little rice is good even if you feel unwell." Alex only meant well, but Matt felt a little mothered.   
"I don't want..."   
"No, there's an improved security lockdown in there. And there's now a way to set up some kind of quarantine for the spam folder," Zachary said, waving his fork.   
"Security lockdown?", Chris asked curiously. Security lockdown. Damn, what if the Council somehow read his messages or just knew who it was writing messages to? Suddenly Matt felt like he had caught a gastrointestinal virus.   
"Dude, damn you vomit on the table," Dylan said so violently next to him that Zachary broke off in the middle of his statement.   
"No..." Matt murmured and pushed the tray away.   
"Should I take you to the infirmary?" Alex asked worriedly.   
"No, I'm fine."   
"You really don't look good," Chris noticed with a frown.   
"I know. I felt better once before." Matt took a deep breath and breathed out slowly; his stomach grumbled loudly.

 

Chris' snoring was so deafening that Matt couldn't sleep either way. Alex didn't snore, but his loud breathing was close. Matt rolled back and forth restlessly, wide awake and with worried stomach pains, and looked at his phone every few minutes.   
Twelve minutes before midnight he glided out of bed and slipped into his shoes. He fished out his key card under the pillow and then snuck out of the room.   
As he wandered through the almost pitch-dark and somehow creepy academy, the stomach pains disappeared - but his heart started racing. On time he stood in front of room 40-11 and knocked.   
"Come in."   
He did what he was told and suddenly stood in a surprisingly large room, in which there was only a long, narrow table with a lonely candle standing on it, lighting four people in long hooded cowls, sitting behind it as if on a judge's bench.   
"Good evening, Matt," said one of the frock figures.   
"Good evening," he greeted politely back. Surprisingly, he sounded completely relaxed.   
"You're probably wondering why you're here," said someone else whose voice sounded familiar to Matt.   
He nodded.   
"You are here because we have an offer for you."   
"One of those kinds that you don't just refuse," added the third.   
Irritated, Matt looked at him.   
"So Matt, would you like to join the Council?" the fourth asked lurking.   
Matt opened his mouth. He really hadn't expected that. When he had caught himself again, he carefully said:   
"Actually, I had assumed that I could act neutrally."   
"As a vigilante?" The first laughed quietly and the second said:   
"We would prefer you to act neutrally in our sense."   
Matt swallowed. "I see." Corruption at its finest. The only question was what the trade-off was. Power as a member of the Council? Immunity? And if he dared to refuse...? What next? While his thoughts thundered through his head like hellhounds, he began to waver and his hands clenched to fists. The Council was something he disliked. The Council opposed the girls. The Council wanted to get rid of them. He thought of Kate and Alanis and took a deep breath.   
"I want to join the Council." He would be the wolf in sheep's clothing - or the sheep in wolf's clothing? But then all the alarm bells were ringing when the four of them rose with scratching chairs, walked around the table and stood up in front of Matt. What could have been worse? To be punished by the Council or the accession ritual?   
One of them stepped forward and pushed Matt's chin up. Now that the guy had the only light source in the room in his back, Matt only saw shadows under the hood. Maybe it shouldn't have surprised him, but he was when he was suddenly kissed so intensely that he almost choked on the foreign tongue. He endured three more kisses with a slight sense of disgust, then one said:   
"Well brother, let's come to your apprentice taxes."   
The thought that Matt had somehow always imagined a brother kiss differently was suffocated by the newly emerging horror that this wasn't all.   
"Yes?" he asked quietly and resisted the urge to wipe his mouth.   
"You have the choice."   
"Either you present your pretty ass to one of us."   
"Or two of us will lift their frocks." One hinted at the gesture.   
"I see," Matt said tonelessly.   
"So?"   
Shuddering, Matt got down on his knees.

##

"Somehow our oh so strict vigilante looked better once," Scarlett remarked critically and Alanis looked up. Horner sat pale two tables away and, contrary to his habits, apparently sipped a cup of tea.   
"I still think he's terribly cute," Isabelle dared to say. Kate choked on her cornflakes while Alanis snorted in her cocoa. Isabelle turned red.   
"No?" Uncertain, she looked around.   
"There are prettier ones," Lillian said with a shrug.   
"Well, if Alexander Grayson wasn't so terribly pale, he'd be really attractive," Annabeth said, sipping her coffee.   
"He's just an albino," Alanis said, dabbing cocoa stains from her blouse.   
"Oh really? I thought it was just a rumour," Kate said curiously.   
"How do you know?" Annabeth wanted to know.   
"A little birdie told me," Alanis replied with a smile and winked at her.   
"As long as this little bird didn't chirp between his legs, too," Scarlett remarked casually. Alanis lost the smile.   
"Oh please. You can also get information in other ways."   
"Don't argue, not again," Steph asked gently. "And not again because of any men."   
"These aren't just any men, Steph," said Annabeth, but fell silent when she caught Scarlett's gaze.   
"You know Isabelle, you can still admire him all year round during the garden club," Alanis said then and Scarlett sighed annoyed.   
"We're not here to pine."   
"Of course not. But a little salt in the soup is good for the taste."   
"Don't argue," Steph repeated. Scarlett rolled her eyes and got up.   
"See you later."   
"Did I say something wrong?" Isabelle asked intimidated.   
"No. She just thinks everyone around us is an enemy," Alanis said and sighed now as well.   
"She isn't completely wrong," Lisa threw in. Since Alanis didn't want to get involved in a further discussion, she just shook her head.   
"I need a fresh blouse. As bad as his mood may be, he never misses _this_."

##

After three half-awakened nights, in which Matt had been present as a masked spectator for the admission of two more new Council members, he was quite done with himself and his world despite a little nap in the afternoon. Nevertheless, he stood with Alanis, Gaspar, Kate and five other recruits in front of the greenhouses and let George inspect them.   
"Nice. You three already know the game. Grab the lawn mowers and start at the avenue."   
The three recruits from the third year saluted playing and left.   
"I can set you two without hesitation on the eggplants in house three." He nodded to Matt and Alanis and Matt turned away.   
When they had entered greenhouse three, Alanis said quietly, although nobody could hear her:   
"Somehow I think LeManet is getting weirder and weirder."   
"Actually, he's quite nice. At least he always has a friendly word for you," Matt gave back shrugging. Actually, he should have been happy to finally be alone with her again, but on the one hand he was just incredibly tired, and on the other hand the jealousy was still gnawing at him.   
"That alone is strange enough. But the way he says them..."   
Matt couldn't do more than shrug once more. He had no problem with Gaspar and he could hardly tell Alanis that his older brother was a council member.   
In oppressive silence they began to harvest the eggplants.   
When Matt had brought a full box to the front and just turned around again, one of the girls stuck her head through the door. When she saw him, she turned bright red.   
"Uh... do you need help?" she stammered.   
"No." Matt said irritated.   
"Oh... okay..." She disappeared again and slammed the door shut.   
"Who and what was that?" he asked Alanis, who began to smile.   
"Isabelle Abercrombie."   
"Ah."   
"She thinks you're cute."   
Matt raised a brow. "How do you know?"   
"She said it."   
"Oh." He blushed, but said nothing else.   
"What, aren't you flattered at all?" Alanis was still smiling as she carefully cut off one eggplant after the other and put it in the boxes.   
"Maybe a little," he admitted.   
"Just a little?" She raised a brow and looked at him in amazement. Surprised he looked back and then his cheeks got hot again. He lowered his eyes to the eggplants.   
"I don't know her. But she doesn't really seem to be a competition for you."   
Now it was Alanis who seemed a little embarrassed.   
"Who said I thought you were cute?" she asked quietly.   
"You," was Matt's simple answer. She seemed to think for a moment.   
"... right." And then she giggled cheerfully. He was tempted to smile and was still smiling when she stopped next to him with an empty box and looked at him.   
"Hmm?"   
"Are you jealous?" she asked with her head slightly tilted. His smile disappeared. Before he could put his question into words, she already added:   
"Because I gave myself a little company during the summer holidays, I mean."   
He wanted to look her in the eye, but couldn't.   
"Yes," he said quietly.   
"You don't need to be."   
While he was still frowning, she brushed his chest with her hand; the tip of her tongue ran over her upper lip.   
"If you had sat in our guest room, I would have taken you with me as well..."   
With this so clear announcement the blood shot so violently into his head that for a moment he had the feeling of toppling over. He swallowed heavily.   
"Really?"   
She nodded. "You've grown." The change of subject now brought him completely out of concept.   
"Uh... yes..."   
"And you've been training."   
"Yeah..." Matt had grown throughout the entire training year and during the holidays he had experienced the final growth spurt that had already been written off. Together with the training sessions out of sheer boredom, this led to his shirt stretching a little on his shoulders. The laundry room had not been able to tell him how long he had to wait for new shirts, because the equipment of the freshmen was more important.   
Alanis stroked over his shoulder and then hooked a finger into the top shirt button.   
"May I admire you?"   
"What...?"   
She opened the button.   
"What are you doing?" He held her by the wrist.   
"Not...?" With big eyes she looked at him and he let her go. Her fingers immediately jumped to the next button, but he pushed her hand aside and hesitated. He swallowed and took a look outside over his shoulder. George, Gaspar and the girls were busy with the apple trees. When he looked ahead again, Alanis looked at him questioningly. With trembling fingers he finally unbuttoned his shirt himself and at her scrutinizing glance he took it off. Suddenly he felt like goods in a shop window.   
"Nice," she commented, but she made it sound like the understatement of the year. She took half a step towards him and reached up, when she let her hand sink, a love bead shone between her fingertips. He had read on the internet that the alleged aphrodisiac effect was only a stubborn rumour which- despite scientific refutation- remained alive and practically had legendary status.   
Alanis held the fruit to his lips and he had already half opened his mouth when she lowered her hand. Her whole face formed an exaggeratedly innocent _oh_ as she pressed the love bead against his sternum.   
His question about what she was doing died somewhere on the way from his brain to the mouth.   
"Oops." A drop of fruit juice ran over his skin. Carelessly she dropped the squashed fruit and caught the drop with her finger, followed its path back over Matt's chest and then held out her finger to him. Slowly he took her hand and licked off her finger. It could have been poison - he didn't care; he only saw her sparkling eyes and her smiling mouth. Since he had the feeling that his heart was right in his throat, he swallowed heavily. He had barely approached her an inch when the greenhouse door opened.   
"Alanis? Can you help me?" Kate asked whining. Matt and Alanis both jumped apart.   
"What happened?" Alanis asked back and turned away after one last look at Matt's naked chest.   
"I have a splinter in my hand."   
Hastily Matt slipped into his shirt and needed two attempts to button it properly. In the background Kate whined to herself.   
"It's just a splinter and not the whole branch, my goodness," Alanis grumbled annoyed.   
"But it hurts!"   
"Happens."   
Matt stuffed the shirt messy into his pants and noticed that he had to blame himself for it, but he didn't care, as he had just been put off from the plan constructed by Alanis.   
She had set out to be kissed - and that alone made his stomach flutter.


	19. Squadron One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first flight as a squadron and some of the newbies got in trouble...

The one hundred second year recruits sat in the dining hall, gazing at a small stage normally hidden behind a partition wall. There stood the flight instructors, all with tablets, lists or other papers in their hands. Clooney stood at a microphone and tapped against it to stop the general murmur.   
"You have now progressed so far that you are divided into training squadrons. We've mostly kept to the fact that the weakest member makes up the strength of a chain, but of course we can't let a squadron consist of Vikings only."   
"Performance above all else," Scarlett muttered.   
"What else?" Alanis mumbled back.   
"In addition to your normal flying hours, there's now a squadron flight plan you can check in your classrooms, on the bulletin board, in the simulation buildings and in the hangars."   
"How often do you think we have to fly with the other idiots?" Lisa asked discontentedly.   
"Twice a week," Scarlett replied unaffected and Lisa distorted her face even more.   
"The first squadrons will already fly together later on, they should go to the group rooms of the simulation buildings to start the first debriefing."   
Alanis raised a brow. As long as no names were mentioned, this was somehow difficult. Clooney babbled for an unusually long time, especially around the bush. Alanis was getting impatient, and not just herself:   
"How long is that going to take?" she heard Withmer grumble at the next table.   
"So let's get to the exciting part. The squadron arrangement."   
"Well finally," it came mumbled from several corners.   
"If you are called, please come and fetch your documents. Well. Squadron One." Clooney cleared his throat and it became dead silent.   
"Matthew Horner, Alexander Grayson, Alanis Hamilton, Tyler Green, Eric Fish, Chris Arlington, Collin Donovan, Gaspar LeManet, Ray Santucci, Edward Morgan."   
Alanis was only minimally impressed. One half came from her class, the other half she had already read the names, but didn't know any faces. She went to the front and took some paperwork, the flight plan was at the top.   
"Damn, we have to go for it straight," one of the guys unknown to her said a little too loud, because Clooney remarked:   
"Well, then go right to the group rooms, Green."   
Green nodded up to Clooney while Alanis looked at Horner. He just nodded to her.   
"Let's go."

Of course no one had a jacket or at least a bag with them, so despite the mixed enthusiasm they went first to their rooms. As they sat in the group room of the simulation building, Alanis took a look at the formation. Before she could say anything, someone asked:   
"Why doesn't Tyler fly in front as Avenger?"   
"Because Matt is the squadron leader," Grayson replied simply.   
"But Hellhounds-," Green started now.   
"Hellhounds also have air weapons," LeManet interrupted him. Horner said nothing about this, but studied the documents. After Horner at the top Grayson flew as Renegade and Alanis as Banshee. Behind them came Green as Avenger, Fish as Valkyrie and Arlington as Viking, followed by Donovan, LeManet, Santucci and Morgan as Hellhounds.   
"Do we really have to discuss the formation or can we just take it as given?" Horner then asked into the discussion. The others fell silent immediately. "I don't quite understand what's the problem."   
"Tyler thinks he should be in the lead as Avenger," Grayson said after a brief moment of tense silence.   
"I don't mind the idea," Horner said, shrugging. "But two things contradict that: I am squadron leader. I have air weapons." _And I resent doubts about my command._ At least in Alanis' mind he added that and she had to smile. Green seemed to be a little offended, but nodded, but Arlington asked disgruntledly:   
"And why are you grinning like that, Hamilton?"   
"Oh, that just sounded like _I have the biggest, I am in charge._ " She shrugged while Arlington and Horner frowned.   
"Do you have a problem with my command?"   
That was the moment when she had to make it clear that she was standing behind him. Not just because it was demanded of her, but because it was indeed the case. So she shook her head gently.   
"I know how you fly. And if you're not trying to pull off the biggest bullshit of the century, I'll always be right behind you."   
He looked at her, seriously, almost darkly.   
"I know how you fly," he repeated, "so I'll be damned before wishing another banshee in my back." That was the greatest acceptance she could expect in the overall situation. They just nodded at each other and then he turned to everyone again.   
"I'm open to advice and honest opinions; after all, this is the first time for me as well. But- this is not a democracy."   
Alanis couldn't help smiling - he was just so incredibly cute when he tried to be deliberately authoritarian. It brought her more dark stares and she pulled herself together.   
"Uh... question." Donovan raised his hand.   
"Yes?"   
"Do I understand the missions right? If we fail on one, we have to repeat it until we get through?"   
"It's no different with video games. One level at a time." Morgan shrugged.   
"You can't kill the end boss with novice skills," Santucci agreed.   
"But what about the statistics?" Donovan went after it.   
"If we fail in a mission, the evaluation is of course corresponding. So we have to make sure that we don't need a second try," Horner simply said. Grayson nodded.   
"I'd like it if we could get the extra points in addition. You never know when you'll have a bad day and you may need some."   
Alanis nodded at him and agreed: "Then we'll start right away." She pulled a sheet out of her papers. "Mission one."   
"Is this seriously a time run?" Fish wanted to know discontentedly.   
"Looks like it," Arlington said. For a moment they all read the instructions, then Horner said:   
"Actually the situation is clear: the Banshee collects the documents and we go on." He nodded to Alanis, who nodded back. As a vertical take-off, she didn't have to struggle with landing and take-off. In the simulation, she would just have to stop for a short time at a certain point of the different bases to collect the required documents while the others circled over her.   
"We just have to think of a time-saving route," he continued, tapping on the rough map on the back.   
"Then we should think backwards," Grayson said. "We have to deliver the papers to the sixth base and I bet someone has a problem with it."

\---

After discussing the first mission at length, they still had a little time before their official flight schedule began, and so Matt turned to the pages which only he as squadron leader had. He would already get more information in the cockpit, could control the others better, saw the targets they had to reach for extra points, and could radio the others privately. After the flight he could look at the details of the group evaluation and he would have to talk to Clooney regularly about the squadron.   
Gaspar and Collin discussed Hellhounds, while Alex and Edward talked about music. Chris, Eric and Ray had gone outside to smoke and Alanis looked like she was dozing off.   
"Hamilton." She raised her gaze and Matt nodded outside. They left the group room and stowed their stuff in the lockers.   
"You didn't say anything about our plan," he noticed and closed his locker. She tilted her head a little and leaned her shoulder against the locker.   
"I think the plan is good. Without a map computer we can't calculate a better route, we won't have time for it in the air and I guess your plan B will quickly become plan A."   
Matt made a face. Plan B intended to let the Banshee fly alone in cloak mode if the rest of the squadron got too involved in aerial combat.   
"You have to protect Fish," she added, as if she could read his mind.   
"He could pick up the files. Then we'd have one more fighter in the meantime."   
"And lose time when he's targeting the runway." She shook her head, then paused. "You know what I was wondering?"   
"Hmm?"   
"Are the missions adapted to the squadron, or do we have to adapt to the mission?"   
"What do you mean?"   
"For example now. We're flying in our territory, so all enemies have to be aircrafts as well. Fish doesn't have air weapons, only ground weapons, and is accordingly useless. Can he switch to his second machine or must he remain a Valkyrie?"   
Surprised Matt opened his mouth. He hadn't even thought about the possibility. "I don't know. Well, if I'm honest, I assumed that our machines were fixed." He shrugged.   
"What else is he flying?"   
"I don't know."   
Together they went to the smokers outside.   
"Eric, quick question. What is your second machine?"   
"A Tenacious, why?"   
"Bingo," Alanis said and Matt nodded.   
"If you can, fly that."   
"But a Tenacious is even slower than a Valkyrie," Chris said critically.   
"But much more helpful in an air fight," Matt returned.   
"There's something to it," Ray said and Eric nodded.   
"Okay." They looked at each other. "We're ready."   
They went back inside where the others joined them. As they approached the white simulators, Matt felt the excitement tingling in his stomach. Alex grinned at him.   
"Let's roll."

"Up up up up up up up!" Tyler yelled as Chris and Ray cursed. Alex whooshed through Matt's sight, followed by an enemy renegade. Matt had to admit that Eric was worth his weight in gold as Tenacious, because the mission had escalated much faster than expected. Nevertheless, they had stuck to the plan of guarding the Banshee, because she didn't have enough energy to keep the cloak mode that long.   
"Okay, guys, I got all the files. We can go to the last base," Alanis said at that moment. Matt looked at the small display on the left where time ticked. Next to it a silver medal shone and indicated that they were still within the range of possible extra points. They still had three minutes, but with the chaos in the air they would never make it. Not even in six if they wanted to target bronze status. Matt didn't like sending Alanis off alone, but his ambition tickled him and in the end it wouldn't change much.   
"Banshee - buzz off to the base. Tenacious- get out what you got, but nice and slow. We stall them."   
"Understood," the others reported back and Alanis disappeared from the radar. Matt didn't have to tell her to hurry - that's what she would do. Time was ticking.   
"Guys, Blackbird." Alanis barely drowned out Tyler's fight blabber. Matt sighed. Blackbirds were unarmed, but had a special stealth radar. And promptly, some of the enemy pilots turned away to pursue the Banshee.   
"Collin, Gaspar- stop them! Alex, what are you doing?"   
It took a moment for an answer to come.   
"I got the two Renegades. I follow them."   
"Good."   
"I hate Time Runs," Collin mumbled and Gaspar laughed quietly.   
"Really? I just wish I could fly a Renegade."   
"Eyes open," Alex shouted in between. The last seconds of the silver rating ticked and Matt wrote it off mentally, when Alanis shouted:   
"Down!"   
"Mission accomplished," the computer voice came up and the big blue button lit up. Matt pushed the button with relief and still tense left the simulator. That hadn't gone half as well as he had wished, even though they had reached silver in terms of time.   
The score said the rest. The individual scores were admittedly not _that_ bad, even if they could all be better, but the group score was terrible in Matt's eyes. He went into the control corner and looked at the details: just as feared, it was all about communication.   
"You don't look too happy," Alex said, leaning in the doorway.   
"No, not really," Matt admitted and closed the rating view. "Tyler's chatter is causing headaches."   
"Tell him. Better now than later when he gets used to it."   
Matt nodded, but before they could go back to the others, he already heard Alanis:   
"Listen, Green. The radio is not there for your self-talks."   
"What do you want, Hamilton?"   
"That you shut up on the next flight and only say what you need to say! We can't even hear ourselves thinking when you're babbling."   
Tyler looked terribly pissed off, Alanis more like she had a headache too.   
"Where she's right..." Gaspar said and shrugged when he got a poisonous look.   
"I'd like to smooth the waves," Matt interfered, "but your fighting screams gave me a headache. So please ease up. You're not alone out there."   
"If we don't hear our orders anymore because of you, you'll have to answer for our deaths," Alanis added sharply and rushed off. Tyler looked after her angrily.   
"You just let her get away with that?"   
"I have a headache, Tyler," Matt repeated. "From your yelling. I didn't even hear Chris' cursing anymore."   
Chris made a face at the side blow, but said nothing. Tyler continued to look angry, but withdrew without a word. The squadron dissolved and Matt rubbed his temple as he looked back at the scoreboard. The longer he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that he would have preferred to form his own group.

\---

Matt yawned heartily and spooned sugar into his coffee as Thomas stood next to him at the coffee dispenser. Since Thomas was now on the Council as well- the one who had decided that, Matt would have loved to punch- Matt became suspicious. After all, they avoided each other otherwise.   
"Two of the freshmen are going to be kicked out, did you hear?" Thomas asked casually.   
"No," Matt returned, as if he wasn't very interested.   
"Got caught in flagrante."   
Matt raised a brow and Thomas grinned.   
"Don't you look at your phone in the morning or what?" He disappeared and Matt sighed. He had forgotten to charge it and so in the morning the battery had been dead, otherwise he would have read the oh so great news of the meanwhile so hated number.   
As he went to the table where the others were sitting, he took a quick look at the girls' table. All nine were present, so the girl had not yet been called to the director.   
"Ooh, there's a rumour that a couple was caught last night," Dylan said conspiratorially when Matt sat down.   
"Where do you always get that from?" Zachary wanted to know critically, while Chris asked:   
"What, did Hamilton finally find someone who meets her expectations?"   
Matt choked right on his first sip of coffee.   
"Nah, nah, nah..." Alex patted him so spiritedly on the back that the coffee from the cup sloshed over Matt's finger. "I doubt you'll lose your favorite banshee. She's not that stupid."   
"But you have to admit we'd have one less thing to worry about," Chris said innocently and bit greedily into his bun.   
"A couple consists of two people," Zachary threw in. "So it concerns one of the boys, too."   
"Do you really think they are kicked out straight away?" Dylan wanted to know and stirred his cereals.   
"I'm afraid so," Matt said, with the coffee still scratching his throat. His fingers were sticky and there were stains on his shirt. The day started great.   
"Too bad, actually," Alex remarked.   
"Why? It's only fair, after all it's in the house rules," Zachary said shrugging.   
"Before it gets out of hand..." Matt quickly interjected, because he saw two of the third year Council members sitting at the next table, "I don't think we necessarily have to discuss the house rules now."   
"Uh... no...", Chris agreed with him. "I would rather have breakfast in peace."   
They finished their breakfast peacefully and at the dining hall door Matt almost collided with Alanis. Smugly, she looked at him.   
"You've got coffee on your shirt."   
"I know," he gave back cool. "If you'd stay out of my way, I could get changed."   
"But of course..." She grinned and stepped aside.

\---

Horner had looked better once before, but somehow that applied to several of them today. Scarlett had had a bad night's sleep and Steph had menstrual pains and was moaning when she found the pack of painkillers with only one pill left.   
"Oh damn... that's not enough for the whole day."   
"Then go to Marjolaine," Scarlett grumbled.   
"But I don't have that much time anymore. Benedict wanted to start a quiz right away."   
"Then go in the lunch break, my goodness."   
Alanis kept out of it and took a quick look at her phon.

**One of you is kicked out.**

Irritated she blinked at the message.

_What? From the academy?_

**What else? In flagrante and all that...**

That wasn't good at all. She lifted her eyes and looked at her room mates, of whom it was certainly none. With her bag in her hand, she left the room.   
"Hey, where are you going that fast?" Scarlett called out to her, but she was already knocking on the next door.   
Annabeth opened. "Did something happen?"   
Alanis' gaze must have told a story as she passed by Annabeth and looked at the other four.   
"Fine. Which one of you was so stupid as to get caught having sex?"   
Lillian became pale. "We didn't... so..." She looked around, caught.   
"Lillian! I told you to banish the thought," Annabeth said angrily.   
"What exactly is going on here?" Scarlett asked in between and closed the door behind her.   
"Lillian received a love letter from Michael and apparently met with him," Annabeth explained sourly.   
"And they were caught," Alanis added dryly.   
"How do you know?" Isabelle asked uncertainly and looked at Lillian, who hastily said:   
"The guy promised not to tell anyone!"   
"Who?", Alanis went after.   
"On his jacket was written LeManet..."   
"Gaspar?" She frowned irritatedly. He didn't seem as if he was shouting something from the rooftops, when his gaze could hardly get away from a certain girl.   
"No. F." Lillian's voice began to tremble. "If everyone knows..."   
"You'll be kicked." Scarlett prophesied dryly. While Alanis was still wondering who F. LeManet might be, Scarlett coolly added:   
"Whereby I would be interested to know how you know something like that, Al."   
"My name is not Al. I have contacts, you know?"   
"Yeah? And what kind of contacts?"   
"Quite legal."   
"Somehow I doubt that."   
"What exactly are you trying to say, Scarlett?"   
Scarlett looked at her coldly for a moment. "I could say a lot about it, but I'm not going to say it."   
"Oh no, I want to hear that now," Alanis returned no less cold.   
"There are a few people here who would probably like to chirp for you as birdies. First and foremost a certain _Gaspar LeManet_ , who has quite marvelous contacts to the examinees, because _Florian_ LeManet is his big brother and is rumored to be a member of the Council."   
That was new to Alanis and surprised she raised a brow.   
"I'd just like to know where you got that from."   
"I've got my contacts too, sweetheart." Scarlett threw herself with tension completely exaggerated in pose - everyone had his flaws.   
"Let me guess: you're the next one to be kicked because you got hooked on Vincent Shale?"   
"I didn't get hooked on Vincent," Scarlett hissed frostily. "We write each other. No ulterior motives at all. He was summoned to the Council and recognized the older LeManet."   
The other five were frozen in the background, but during the upcoming pause Kate said carefully:   
"We have to go to class."   
Scarlett immediately drove around and rushed out. Alanis took a look at Lillian, who had put one hand in front of her mouth and had turned pale.   
"What else can I say...?"   
Lillian burst into tears and Alanis left the room.

When she reached the classroom, Irving whistled at her.   
"Well, you're still here."   
She didn't give him a look.   
"Ten little girls want to become pilots, one kills herself, there were only left nine," Wilmod said maliciously in a wry chant. "Nine little girls are lonely at night, one smiles at the wrong one, whoops, there are just eight."   
"That's a bit childish, Thomas," Horner said and rolled his eyes while some others laughed.   
"Stupidity must be punished," Alanis said dryly and Wilmod interrupted his own giggling.   
"Excuse me?"   
She shrugged. "Who's so stupid and gets caught... blame yourself."   
"So your pretty look will stay with me for a while," he said.   
"Looks like it." Unaffected, she began to unpack her things.   
"It's not very comradely to say that," Foster remarked and turned to her.   
"You are an intelligent boy, aren't you?" She didn't look up from her bag, but noticed his nod from the corner of her eye. "So if you have a risk in front of you and don't want to face the possible consequences, do you take the risk?"   
"Depends on the probabilities," Foster replied.   
"As for love and Xenon, probabilities always go against you. Or whoever."   
"She's got a point there, Dylan," Grayson remarked behind her. Foster didn't seem really happy, but turned back forward. Meanwhile Alanis had another thought.   
"Say, Horner..."   
"What?" he asked with a slightly annoyed undertone. The attention of the class was assured because she spoke to him of her own accord.   
"Now there's this homework assistance payment scheme..."   
"...and?"   
"You as a class president and a vigilante, and don't-know-what... Well, if someone gets caught, what happens? School rules say forbidden, Council says allowed. And what if this payment becomes more than a little, well, payment?" With her head tilted thoughtfully, she looked over at him.   
"You mean, if the two of them turn it the way it was a homework assistance payment, they won't get kicked out?" he asked back. He frowned a little uncertainly, some of the others also looked slightly confused.   
"Interesting option, but I don't think the Council will allow it. No, I mean rather whether the Council punishes a gay couple just as severely." She had dared. She had used the terrible word at a military institution and noticed in the now prevailing dead silence a tension that could almost be touched. Finally Horner cleared his throat and said:   
"I'm afraid I can't answer that." He shrugged and shook his head carefully. Alanis nodded.   
"No answer is also an answer."

\---

Matt was quite tired after a Council meeting and since the girls didn't have hot water _again_ , Alanis wasn't in a very good mood either. Accordingly, they had already clashed three times and although they would talk about it by phone at the end of the day, Matt felt terrible about it.   
Well. And he just had to run around the academy lake in the pouring rain, with temperatures just above zero. Since class 2a hadn't exactly gained any fame in the last sports class, Statson had fulfilled his warning and let them run around the lake for the entire ninety minutes. Matt hadn't really thought the lake was big, but now he was clearly correcting his opinion upwards.   
He just finished his second round and was already out of breath - he was definitely not an endurance runner. The rain went into his eyes and the muddy ground made the running in some places a slippery ride. Someone came running from behind and then he got a hit on the shoulder.   
"Pffuuuu!"   
"Hey Matt..." Dylan sounded as happy as ever. "My goodness, you're really sneaking."   
Matt gave him a poisonous stare while Dylan comfortably adapted to his tempo.   
"So, what's new?"   
Matt growled.   
"Have you seen Gaspar sticking to Alanis just to stare at her butt?" Dylan continued unmoved.   
Matt growled again.   
"Do you know what she thinks of him? I mean, he enrolled himself in the garden club."   
"... strange...", Matt gasped.   
"No, not really. If he has a crush on her, it's rather logical."   
Matt rolled his eyes. "She thinks he's strange," he said strainedly.   
"Oh, oh yeah. Well, then it's done, isn't it?"   
Matt looked at Dylan questioningly.   
"I mean, then she's hardly going to start anything with him." Dylan stopped. "Unless, of course, she's bored. Or she's lonely."   
Matt looked at him darkly.   
"Do you know? If Gaspar says something, she might take the chance..."   
"Which _she_ are we talking about?" Alex asked in between and showed up at Matt's other side. Inside he rolled his eyes - now he would be texted at from both sides.   
"Hamilton," Dylan replied. "Gaspar likes her."   
"That's pretty obvious," Alex said casually. "And after what Hamilton said the other day when the two freshmen were caught, she's certainly not going to start anything with him. He can stare at her ass and boobs as much as he wants." Alex paused to catch his breath, then he added: "Whereas staring alone doesn't do much good."   
"In Hamilton's case probably gets him a slap", Matt choked out.   
"What, have you made experiences?" Dylan asked perplexed.   
"No. Just saying."   
"Why should Matt get a slap from her?" Alex asked no less irritated. Blessed nescience, Matt thought, but Dylan shook his head.   
"I wasn't referring to Hamilton though."   
"That would have surprised me too now," Alex said and grinned. "The girl's a size too big for you."   
Dylan laughed and Matt growled strained and not half as angry as he wanted: "Enough for me to argue with her publicly. No need to have in private." The other two laughed.   
"But such a dragon can also be completely different, believe me." Alex winked at him. "And in bed a little fire is quite nice."   
"You were also on a military boarding school. Why aren't you such a convent boy like Matt?" Dylan asked with a grin. Matt made a face. He hated it when they were joking at his cost, and in addition, Dylan sounded as if he already knew the answer.   
"I know how to use my holidays. And," Alex coughed affectionately, "certain privileges of public life."   
Matt rolled his eyes. Alex saw that and nudged him.   
"You could come by during the holidays. When I tell my father that we have to write a paper or something together, and we show up with textbooks from time to time, he buys it."   
"And by the way, you can enjoy the shimmering women's world of Valenzar," Dylan added. But suddenly his grin died. "Hey, why aren't I invited?"   
Alex laughed quietly. "Two at a time is a bit much."   
"I imagined that you already had it all," Matt threw in. His wheezing didn't make it sound half as dry as he wanted. Alex took a moment to think, then he laughed.   
"No. Seriously, Matt. I'm just turning twenty. There must still be something left for the next few years".   
Matt sighed faithfully. "Sometimes I hate you."   
Alex winked at him. "Me too."


	20. Promises

Alanis' general mood wasn't the best. The Council had been pestering the girls for weeks with little nasty things: no hot water in the washroom, no water at all in the personal bathroom, sudden power cuts, nocturnal knocking on the door... Part of her frustration she took out on her classmates or her squadron, but unfortunately that didn't help as much as it would have been necessary. On the contrary, it only made things worse if she was again having trouble with Horner because of it, even though his nightly messages like _everything is going to be fine, just calm down_ were really sweet.   
She was looking forward to the Garden Club, but when she stood in the damp and cold haze and saw George's face, her mood sank again.   
"Well, guys, today it's hard work. There's a bit of small wood piling up that needs shredding." He pointed to a misshapen heap covered by a black tarpaulin, in front of which stood some black-yellow device. "Girls, the root vegetable is waiting in greenhouse five."   
Alanis, Kate, Isabelle and Florence nodded and set to work.

Onions, carrots and the colorful laluuhn tubers progressively landed in the boxes; Kate and Florence worked on one side, Alanis and Isabelle on the other.   
"Say... ", Isabelle started after a while and got pink cheeks, even before she had said anything, "do you know Horner well?" Alanis raised a brow and looked at Kate for a moment, but she obviously hadn't heard Isabelle's soft voice, because she talked happily to Florence herself.   
"Lillian just got kicked out of the academy and you're asking me about your crush?"   
Isabelle turned red. "I... I mean... it's just... well..." She lowered her eyes and Alanis sighed.   
"Really, Isabelle. Get your dreams out of your head."   
Isabelle pressed her lips together, but still said: "He's the first boy I've seen and thought _wow_..."   
Alanis' brows twitched to undreamt-of heights and she had to stifle a laugh. "I admit that he looks quite good, but for a _stunning_ it's not enough..."   
Isabelle raised her eyes. "Who do you particularly like?" she wanted to know and tried to smile. Alanis shrugged.   
"I'm not here to get a husband. I want to be a pilot."   
Isabelle's smile went out.   
"Lillian also wanted to be a pilot, didn't she?" Alanis added and Isabelle lowered her eyes again to the onions in front of her in the bed.   
"I also want to be a pilot," Isabelle said striving for inner strength. "But I don't see why I can't look for love on the side. We are so young! Should we really for three years -"   
"Isabelle...", Alanis gently interrupted her when she saw tears glittering. "I don't want to rob you of your illusions, you know. But Lillian has been kicked and Horner will certainly not get involved in such an adventure if you had the courage to tell him what you want."   
Isabelle sniffed quietly.   
"The Xenon is just not the right place for it."   
"You're probably right..." Isabelle mumbled quietly and wiped her cheek with her dirty hand.   
For a moment they remained silent, then she asked quietly: "You have kissed a boy before, haven't you?"   
"One or two..." Alanis smiled and carefully knocked earth from a root. Isabelle seemed incredibly embarrassed. "Do you think it's reprehensible?" Alanis asked back.   
"No... no, of course not." Isabelle blushed. "I think a lot of guys here would secretly like to kiss you."   
"Well, it probably wouldn't end with kissing in their opinion," Alanis murmured dryly and Isabelle blushed even more. "And if we weren't where we are, I wouldn't have a problem with the thought of some of them, but we're at the Xenon here."  
"You'd just sleep with them like that?" Isabelle sounded unbelieving.   
"What do you mean, _just_? Without love or deep affection?", Alanis went after and Isabelle nodded. "Sex doesn't necessarily have anything to do with feelings. There hasn't been prostitution without reason since time immemorial." That wasn't what Isabelle had wanted to hear and Alanis sighed softly. "It's your business what you make of it, you know? Talk to him if you want."   
"I don't think I can do that," Isabelle murmured.   
"Well, then I can't help you either. I won't actively push you into ruin," Alanis gave back and stacked two boxes on top of each other to bring them to the front. She had just grabbed an empty one when the door opened and George came in.   
"Ah, Alanis. Would you mind dumping the green stuff right here? The kitchen crew asked for some support."   
Alanis made a face, but nodded.   
"Good, thanks." George turned around and disappeared again as she sighed and grabbed one of the garden knives to slowly free the carrots from their green.

It wasn't long before Kate put another box up for her.   
"I wouldn't have imagined how relaxing gardening could be," she smiled.   
"Even without the possibility of a hot shower tonight?" Alanis wanted to know doubtfully and Kate's smile shrank.   
"Well... obviously you can't have everything here."   
She went back to work and Isabelle showed up, a box with laluuhn tubers in her hand.   
"What you just said..."   
"Hmm?" Alanis looked up for a second.   
"Would you help me anyway?"   
"To what extent?"   
"Well... if I ask you to. So send him a message or something." Isabelle was as red as the vegetable box in her hand. Alanis sighed softly.   
"I can."   
"Thanks that-"   
The door blew open and LeManet stumbled in a little pale around the nose. He held his left hand clasped and Alanis saw blood on his sleeve.   
"Oh...", Isabelle made, turned as white as chalk and disappeared hastily.   
"I suppose there are still all fingers on it?" Alanis asked, wiping her hands on her pants and bending down after the first aid kit available in every greenhouse - just in case someone pulled a splinter or scratch. LeManet nodded.   
"Otherwise I wouldn't be here."   
Alanis smiled. "You have a little blood there. You'd better go to the infirmary."   
"Works the same," he gave back. She opened the little case.   
"Show me."   
He held out his hand to her and looked to the side.   
"Can't you see any blood?" she asked a little amused and quickly put on a pair of disposable gloves.   
"Not my own," he muttered. There was a long cut on the outer palm, not deep, but there was quite a lot of bleeding. Since his hands were dirty from working with the wood, she grabbed the disinfectant.   
"This is going to hurt a little now..."   
He was howling.   
"Hold still." She grabbed his wrist. "Don't be a chicken, LeManet. That's just a big scratch."   
He looked at her grumpy. "My name's Gaspar."   
"for all I care..." She quickly put a bandage on him.   
"You've done this before, haven't you?" he wanted to know, and hid the injured hand in the healthy one again when she nodded and put the bandage away.   
"Dylan's right somehow... there's obviously nothing you can't do."   
She snorted amusedly. "There are a lot of things I can't do. But I don't rub that under everyone's nose."   
He smiled. "So you have weaknesses."   
"Of course. Like everyone else." She smiled back in an exaggeratedly friendly way and took off her gloves to throw them away.   
"Will you tell me one of them? Just between us two?" he wanted to know and tilted his head a little while his smile became mischievous. Alanis raised a brow. LeManet- Gaspar- had quite a narrow face with a slightly curved nose; as he smiled, his bright blue eyes became small and somehow it resulted in an almost calculating expression.   
"Why should I?" she asked back a little late after she had examined him.   
"I'll tell you one of my weaknesses."   
"You can't see blood, it's obvious."   
"Another one."   
"What kind of game is this, huh?" Asking she looked at him, but he just kept smiling.   
"We are a squadron, a team. We should know each other a little. After all, we trust each other with our lives, don't we?" He had a point there.   
"All right," she sighed and rolled her eyes. Almost conspiratorially he came closer and bent over a little.   
"I have a weakness for you." He looked at her intensely to make sure she understood and then gently grasped her chin. As if in slow motion, he leaned forward as Alanis saw the door open that he hadn't closed properly behind him before.   
Horner entered, his face angrily distorted, and then their eyes met, just as Gaspar's mouth lowered to hers. _Marvelous._ Horner first turned pale, then bright red. Alanis pushed Gaspar away and at the same time Horner frostily said:   
"Give me _just one_ good reason to keep this for myself, Gaspar."   
Gaspar turned around in surprise and frowned. "We'll sort it out in private." He left the greenhouse with long strides as Horner approached and grabbed the first aid kit. His fingers trembled as he looked for the tweezers.   
"Shall I help you?" Alanis asked quietly.   
"No!" He literally spat out the word. Nevertheless, he let her take the tweezers off and held still as she carefully pulled the two splinters out of his palm. She searched internally for words, but found none. Rather, she was surprised by herself, because it was painful to see how hurt Horner was. He tipped a little disinfectant into his hand and left.

\---

Matt survived the remaining club time as if numb. When all the others went back to the house through the drizzle, Gaspar held him back.   
"Matt."   
He turned around and for a moment they were studying each other. Then Gaspar said with a threatening undertone:   
"My brother belongs to the Council".   
Matt almost laughed. "Not forever."   
"Next year, nobody cares," Gaspar returned.   
"If I get the feeling that you're using the Garden Club to get closer to Hamilton, I'll go to the Council. Your brother isn't alone there, after all."   
Gaspar pressed his lips together, but finally nodded before hurrying off. Matt followed him slowly, trying not to think about that terrible moment all the time.   
As he entered his room, Alex sat at the table and explained some map to Chris, while Dylan sat next to him playing with his phone. Matt dropped onto his bed and took his phone out of the locked drawer. No message.

**You kissed him.**

He finally typed with trembling fingers.

_He kissed me, that's a big difference._

Matt made a face, the phon vibrated again.

_And by the way, I like to be kissed._

Growling, Matt threw the phon into the drawer and slammed it shut.   
"Is everything okay?" Alex asked.   
"Obviously not," Dylan remarked dryly while Matt grabbed his shower stuff. He needed a lot of cold water now.   
"Don't you want to wait until after dinner?" Alex shouted after him, but Matt wouldn't listen any further.   
It felt incredibly good just to face the shock of the cold water. Homework and dinner and then a little chatting with the others and then to bed...

"May I ask what happened?" Dylan asked behind Matt so suddenly that he flinched. Actually Matt had been expecting Alex, but he almost preferred Dylan; at least he knew what it was all about.   
"Nothing," Matt said, nevertheless rejecting.   
"You don't look like it's nothing." Dylan had only taken off his shoes and socks and leaned against the wall at a safe distance. Matt sighed and rubbed his eyes.   
"Nothing happened to me."   
"That is not an answer, my friend. What did Hamilton do?"   
Matt turned his back on Dylan and again held his face in the water, which he had turned much warmer in the meantime.   
"She let Gaspar kiss her."   
"You saw it," Dylan noticed and Matt nodded. "Did she say anything?"   
"No."   
"Did you write to her?"   
"I tried. But I don't know what to write."   
"You could ask her if she would also let you kiss her," Dylan suggested.   
"I don't need to ask her that, I know." Matt murmured and wiped the water out of his eyes.   
"Oh," Dylan made surprised.   
For a moment they looked at each other.   
"Could you update me?" Dylan asked then. Matt turned the water off and wrapped himself in his towel.   
"So?", Dylan went after, but Matt hesitated. "Come on, Matt..."   
He sighed. "She flirts a lot, but that's all."   
"The way she does it can say a lot, you know?" Dylan crossed her arms in front of his chest and Matt began to dry off. Finally he buried his face in the towel and said quietly:   
"She made it pretty clear to me that she would sleep with me."   
"Did you really just say what I think I heard?" Dylan asked incredulously after a moment. Matt let the towel sink.   
"Yes...?"   
"And you idiot can't even kiss her?" Dylan shook his head.   
"We were interrupted," Matt set up to defend himself, but Dylan waved off.   
"You have to fix this. Now. Otherwise Gaspar might be more interesting after all."   
"And how?" Matt asked a little helplessly.   
"You've got your fucking phone!" Dylan said annoyed and rolled his eyes. "How did you even get her number? Did you really just ask her?"   
Matt wrung himself a smile and told about the lemon bonbons - even if he left out the part about Kate. Dylan laughed quietly and when Matt had dressed again, they went back to their room.   
Chris had disappeared by now and Alex was lying on his bed listening to music. When Matt was digging in his files for the homework stuff, he asked Alex:   
"Have you finished the tactical considerations?"   
"No. But we won't have to hand them in for another week. Why?"   
"I'd like to do them with you. I get the impression that the others in the squadron aren't overly interested in making plans."   
"Well, they can criticize quite good."   
"Yes... well, Hamilton thinks along, but what she says is torpedoed by the others anyway," Matt sighed and put his stuff on the table before he sat down. Alex looked at him thoughtfully.   
"Actually, it's just Chris and Tyler. Collin really admires her and Gaspar... is Gaspar." He shrugged and Matt grimaced.

After homework and dinner Matt had calmed down so much that he took his phon again.

**There are a lot of people here who would like to kiss you.**

_And not just kissing, I would say. But I have preferences._

**Oh.**

_G wasn't actually one of them._

**And not actually?**

_Not either._

**You let him kiss you anyway.**

_Well, he really isn't scrap. And despite everything I like to be kissed._

And again Matt didn't know what he should say about it. Again the anger crept into his stomach and he smashed the phon into the drawer a second time before slamming it shut.   
"Is this going to be a new fashion now?" Alex wanted to know doubtfully, but Matt just growled.   
"Give me that thing," Dylan said calmly from his bed. Matt hesitated, but then he took the phone and threw it at Dylan.   
"You seriously trust Dylan with your phone?" Alex asked. Everything about him said he thought it was a very bad idea.   
"I would trust you with my life, so I can give Dylan my phone as well."   
Dylan laughed quietly and Alex shook his head with a fine smile.   
"One shall understand you..."   
"If not you, then who?" Matt wrung himself a smile and Alex smirked. Dylan climbed from his bed and sat down with Matt, then he held the phon under his nose.

**You know I'd love to kiss you. I'm just not as direct as G.**

"What do you think?" Dylan asked quietly and Matt nodded. Dylan pressed send and then looked at Matt critically. "A broad hint cubed, my friend. You are blind. Or stupid."   
"Hey!" The phon vibrated.

_Yes, I noticed that. *Wink-Emoji*_

Dylan typed: **How about a little help?**

"Dylan!" But he had sent it off before Matt could make a big protest.

_Just for the record, I'm not going to kiss you. I like men who take the first step. *Wink-Emoji*_

_And more accommodating than last time is difficult, don't you think?_

The third message in a row was full of winking smileys and Matt blushed at the memory. Dylan pressed the phon into his hand.   
"And now make something out of it," he muttered, patting him on the shoulder and swinging back up into his bed. Alex looked questioningly at Matt, but he only sighed and waved off.   
Hopefully Alex had listened more to his music than to his friends.

\---

The hour bell announced the end of the daily lessons and around Matt eager activity broke out, although MacKenzie hadn't yet finished his sentence properly. But it was the weekend and the instructor couldn't shut himself off about it.   
"Think about your homework!" he shouted over starting chatter and was the first to leave the room. Matt packed his bag in peace of mind and waited until everyone had left the room and only Alanis was left as service of duty. She first swept the room in complete peace of mind before turning to the blackboard. She pulled a new cleaning cloth onto the sponge holder and began to wipe the blackboard in meditative movements.   
"Well, you could hurry a little more," Matt said calmly after a while and leaned sideways against the teacher's desk.   
"We have the first lesson with Waldo on Monday. And he likes a clean blackboard," Alanis returned smiling. The blackboard was shining bright in the meantime, although she had been rather sloppy during the week.   
"You could also polish the blackboard with your hair, but that doesn't change anything," he said, waiting with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His bag hung heavily from his shoulder.   
"Do you have a problem with my hair?" she asked and turned half to him.   
"No." The chance was right in front of Matt's feet and he almost didn't recognize it. Smiling, he added: "I think your hair is gorgeous." Suddenly he wished he could give her the hairpin with the snowflake now. She almost seemed a little embarrassed about the compliment and clamped the sponge to the blackboard before she grabbed her bag.   
But instead of going out, she stopped right in front of Matt and looked at him provocatively. The corridor in front of the classroom was probably deserted and yet the tingling in his stomach was accompanied by a dull feeling. Carefully he put his hands at her waist and pulled her a bit, she let her hands rest on his shoulders. He wished time would stand still. As their nose tips touched, Matt got a tiny electric shock, and then somewhere down the hallway another door blew open.   
"I told you my help had its price," someone said angrily.   
Alanis flinched back.   
"You could have defined the price more precisely," a second voice hissed. The two quarreling recruits disappeared. Matt looked at Alanis, who sighed resignedly and left the room. He locked the classroom and followed her into the west wing.   
As he turned around the corner behind the stairs, he saw Kate standing in front of Alanis' room. She gave him an unhappy glance before she knocked.

\---

Alanis sighed. If there was such a thing as fate, it seemed to have an objection to Horner kissing her. She entered her room, dropped her bag next to the bed and threw herself into the pillow. Before she could even take a deep breath, there was a knock and Steph opened the door for Kate.   
"Hey..." she said. "We got a problem."   
"Only one?" Scarlett asked and raised a brow.   
"Annabeth is pregnant."   
For a moment, Alanis thought she had misheard, but then Lisa asked irritated:   
"Wait, didn't she tear strips off Lillian because she was caught kissing?"   
"Yes," Alanis answered slowly.   
"No more questions, Your Honor," Scarlett remarked dryly and shook her head.   
"Is she sure?" Steph wanted to know. Kate nodded.   
"She just came back from Marjolaine."   
"Does she want to keep it?"   
Kate shrugged.   
Again there was an unpleasant silence, then Steph said:   
"Well, keeping it, probably wouldn't be fair either."   
"What do you mean?" Kate asked uncertainly.   
"Towards the father."   
Alanis nodded and added: "The affair of the two can hardly go beyond a minimum and then directly become parents? Well, I don't know."   
"But just end such an innocent life?" In Kate's face stood the pure agony, as if she had to make this decision herself.   
"Even if normally Alanis is responsible for the ugly truth: first of all she ruins her own life, if she now has a child as a minor, from a guy who is also a minor and who probably never looks at her again." Scarlett twirled a pencil in her fingers. "Before anyone gets it wrong, I'm not arguing for an abortion. Because even if she decides in favour of the Xenon, Marjolaine has to report it. And then there is a nice chance that she will still be kicked."   
"Even if Vance doesn't stand behind it, nobody knows how much pressure the Council can actually exert. To the instructors or to Annabeth," Alanis added. Kate looked at her unhappily.   
"But what does this Council do? So far it's just annoying us."   
"Enough to lose the fun," Steph murmured, but Scarlett said bitterly:   
"Would you like to be annoyed like Veronica?"   
"If we can trust the rumours, then the council consists of examinees and recruits from the second year. The year has less than three full months done. I think they have to organize themselves first," Alanis said and sighed, "and if I'm honest, I could certainly do without a new edition of the shower video."   
"And Annabeth?"   
"Apparently snatched up a pretty comrade rather quickly and gets the bill now." Alanis shrugged. "Come on, Kate. You're not stupid. If you really want to be a pilot, you look at the target, not at the next pair of bulging pants."   
Lisa snorted amused while Kate made a face.   
"Tell Annabeth we're standing behind her no matter what she decides," Steph said gently and diplomatically ended the conversation.   
As the door closed behind Kate, Alanis reached for her phon.   
If she thought about it that way, she also let herself be distracted a little bit- maybe a little too much...


End file.
